


Civil Differences

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Inspired by Real Events, Points of View, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-27
Updated: 2007-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-26 23:57:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 34,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12069597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Story begins in 1861.  Brian is 29, Justin 17.  What happens when circumstances thrust one of them into the civil war.





	1. On the verge of war

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Thanks to my beta on this one – KJ! Thanks to Crazyfairy for Edge of the World and Kristin for The Abernathy Trilogy. Sorry this first chapter is so short. Personal life issues fucked with my muse. Also please note - I am NOT a civil war historian - or any type of historian for that matter. I have done some research but if I screw up the history - don't shoot me. If however, I have someone using a cell phone or watching tv - then feel free to burn me at the stake.

* * *

**Burkittsville** **, Maryland** **– Early April 1861**

It was well after dark before I snuck out of our farmhouse. I've been doing this for months now and I've gotten so good at it I don't even fear being caught anymore. Three years ago I never could have imagined sneaking out of my own home every night . But now that I am 17, and father and I are at odds, I seem to have no other choice. No other choice if I want to maintain my sanity. 

A few months ago a man moved to town. He bought the bar in town and the house on the other side of the woods from ours. I've heard mother and father talk about him as though there is something disgraceful or unseemly about him, but I've grown quite fond of my new friend; Brian Kinney. 

Brian is 12 years older than I am but he is still unmarried so he has plenty of time to spend with me. Mother says that there must be something bad in his past for a man of his beauty to still be without a wife. In the time I've gotten to know him though, it seems that he doesn't want a wife. Brian has become my saving grace. He has opened his home to me on the nights when Father rants about our new President, or when the constant abuse of our house slave Harold has simply become too much for me to handle. Brian has tried to council me to stand up to my father. To stand up for Harold when Father whips him for simple mistakes. Sadly I find I just do not have the courage. Instead I run to Brian. He always offers me a warm smile, some food, and a place to express my own opinions. 

As I make my way down the familiar path through the woods I stop at the rock outcropping that hides some of my most precious belongings away from Father. Grabbing the satchel that contains parchment and pencils I grin, knowing that Brian will pose for me again if I ask him to. Nearing the clearing that Brian's small house is in I see there is still lamplight glowing in the window and my grin gets wider.

It was two weeks ago to the day that he told me to stop bothering him with my knocking and just come on in. I can still remember the warm sensation I got in my gut when he told me that. Brian is a fairly reclusive guy. He goes over to the neighboring town fairly often on some sort of secret business that doesn't seem to have anything to do with his bar business. Knowing that he is giving me free reign to his house and by extension to his life keeps me going while I struggle through the days at home on the farm.

"Well, well if it isn't little Justin Taylor." I smile in response until with a smirk he adds, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Shut up." He gives me a look as one eyebrow slowly forms a more prominent arch at my response.

I'm not surprised to see that he has left out a plate of food for me. He rarely eats his entire meal and often the leftovers are waiting for me when I get there. Sitting down at the table opposite him I start to eat without saying another word.

After a few minutes of silence, I'm eating while he works on writing up some new idea for the bar. He finally heaves a huge sigh and puts down the pencil.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

"The usual," I respond simply. I know he wants more, but I also know how disappointed he will be with me.

"Harold dropped a glass. It was empty so no mess was made, but Father went crazy anyway. He…" I pause not really sure if I can continue. I know if Brian learns of what I've done that he may not let me come over anymore.

"He what?" he asks in a tone that I know means he is beyond being patient with me. He wants an answer and I either give him one or go back to the home I just fled from.

With a small tremble in my voice I begin again; "He reminded me that he would be leaving town in two days time. He said that now that I was 17, I was responsible for running things as he would in his absence. He……. He made me secure Harold to the tree out front." I pause again but this time he doesn't press because he knows once I start talking it's hard to make me stop. Clearing my throat I steel myself for what I'm afraid is to come and continue with my story. "He had me bind Harold by the wrists, with his arms wrapped around the tree, and then he began to whip him. Harold's back still hasn't recovered from his whipping last week and he was open and bleeding after just three lashes. That's when Father handed me the whip and told me that a real man knows how to teach his slave a lesson. I …… I whipped Harold."

My head is hanging down in shame so I don't realize that Brian has gotten out of his own chair and come to stand next to me. I feel his hand on the back of my neck and he squeezes it slightly in that comforting manner that only he seems to have. I turn in the chair slightly so that my face is buried in Brian's stomach. I've let him hear my weakness, I cannot allow him to see it on my face as well.

The rest of the evening is spent in our usual way, me sketching and Brian reading; tonight he is reading the latest Harpers Weekly. The frustrated sighs occasionally escaping his lips let me know just how things are going. Seems there is talk of the impending war may start here in Maryland in the next few days. Troops are gathering at Ft. Sumter and Father along with all the other state legislators will be heading to Annapolis in the upcoming days. Brian and I are both opposed to the idea of our state succeeding from the union but Father is planning to vote for it. 

"Justin, when are you going to stand up to your father?"

Knowing it had been coming all night I was prepared for the question. "I'm not. I'm not like you Brian. You have no family, no one you are responsible for or to. As much as I disagree with him, he is still my father."

"He is never going to be what you want him to be. You'll always be disappointed."

"That may be, but it doesn't mean I should give up on him like he's given up on me." He shakes his head and sighs indicating he thinks I am naïve.

"Well I guess its time for me to sneak back in."

"I know you aren't going back home tonight and you aren't sleeping in the woods. You can stay here. Just for tonight."

An hour later Brian blows out the candles and we crawl into his bed. I make sure to stick as far to my side as I can. I don't want to encroach on his space since he is being nice enough to let me stay.


	2. War Has Begun

  
Author's notes:

Thanks again to my beta KJ! Thanks to all "my girls" for encouraging me to write again. Oh and if you recognize the place – Burkittsville, MD as the home of the Blair Witch – yeah it was – but she has nothing to do with this story. Thanks in advance for reading and reviewing.

* * *

**April 20th – Burkittsville, MD**

Justin's POV

That first ray of sun breaks through the curtains and splays across my face.  I turn my head and snuggle closer to my pillow, praying that dawn holds off for just a few more minutes.  Like the dawn breaking gradually a realization comes over me; I'm not in my bed.  Searching my memory I panic for a moment trying to remember where I might be before I remember that Brian let me stay the night.  An odd sense of calm and a strange tingling warmth comes over me before I once again panic when I realize Mother and Father will discover my absence.  I slowly roll onto my back and let out a deep sigh.  It's then that I notice how close my body has moved to Brian's throughout the night.  He must not have noticed or he must not mind; so I take a moment to indulge in feeling close to him, to absorb some of his body heat, and to plan my next move.

"You're thinking too much" he says and startles me half to death.

"I didn't realize you were awake." 

"I've been awake for about a half hour."  The thought pops into my mind that he was awake for a half hour and did not make an attempt to move farther away from me while I slept on.  I shrug off that thought as frivolous and having no bearing on the wrath I will face from Father for not being at home this morning.

"What am I going to do?"

"You're going to get up, get dressed, and go home.  You have to face your Father at some point.  The longer you put it off the harder it will be."

I don't say much as I gather together my things and get dressed.  Brian seems to have gotten a harder edge towards me in recent days.  I can feel the disappointment rolling off of him in waves.  I feel very much stuck in the hard place between my own feelings and my family obligations.

The sense of foreboding only worsens the closer I get to the house.  The moment I step out from the woods into our yard my mother is out the back door.

"Justin!  Where have you been?  Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

"I spent the night at Br…Mr. Kinney's house."

"That man?!?  Why would you spend the night in his house?  Why weren't you home?  What is going on with you?"  Her voice got louder and higher pitched with each question.

I finally look up into her eyes and over her shoulder see my father standing just inside the doorway.  I think I am shaking slightly but I can't be sure whether its fear or anger coursing through me.  I should not have to fear my father.  What kind of man fears his father?  Brian has told me time and again that it is time for me to be a man.  Perhaps he is right.

"Justin, get in the house and change your clothes.  You are already several hours behind in your chores."  He orders me around with very little feeling in his voice.  It is almost the same tone he uses with Harold and the other slaves.  The sudden reminder of Harold and how I was forced to treat him last night stirs something indescribable up inside me.

"No."

At this curt reply he is suddenly charging down the steps and is in my face within seconds.

"You will do what you are told boy!" He screams at me; some spit flying from his mouth and hitting my face.

I slowly wipe his spit from my face; look at my hand and then back up at him.  "No Father.  I will not.  You cannot order me around like one of your slaves.  I am a man and I will be treated as such."

It happened so quickly I barely registered the feeling.  My only real clue that he had slapped me was my mothers gasp and the slowly increasing warming sensation in my cheek.

"At least my slaves have learned respect!"

"No they haven't.  Respect is earned not beaten.  Fear and its subsequent obedience is not respect.  To my knowledge no one respects you."  This time I am fast enough to step back away from his swinging fist, so I continue.  "You will never again use me to beat your brand of respect into Harold or any of the other slaves."

"This war will teach all you pansies the value of keeping people in their place" he spits out and walks away.

I sigh, knowing the encounter is over and I have stood my ground; finally.

"Justin you should not have provoked him like that.  He will only find a way to take it out on you or someone else later."

"I will live with the consequences of my actions mother.  And he had better realize that he will have to live with the consequences of his."  I walk into the house with my head held high; feeling better than I've felt in months.

That high only lasts until I see Harold doing house work and moving stiffly due to yesterdays beating.  I remind myself once again of Brian's encouragement to stand up and be heard.  Walking over to Harold I try to come up with some type of apology for my actions and for my inactions.  Harold is only 3 years older than I am.  We grew up together these last few years.  Father bought him at the age of 12 and he has been a slave on our farm ever since.  I used to sneak into the fields and we would play together until Father caught us and gave Harold his first of many whippings.

Deciding the direct approach is best I start with a simple "I'm sorry."

When he doesn't respond I struggle to find more ways to say it.  

"Harold I'm sorry.  I really am.  I know that isn't good enough but its all I have.  I promise I won't hurt you again.  I promise I won't let him talk me into doing something like that again.  Someday this farm will be mine, and if this war isn't successful I will make you a free man then."  The silence coming from him only seems to deepen somehow.

"Please Harold, please say something.  Anything.  Yell at me if you must."

I watch with trepidation as Harold slowly struggles to pull his shirt over his head.  Once it's off he turns around and tears come to my eyes when I have a close up view of all the old and new scars that litter his back like lines on a map.  He turns back around and I summon the courage to look him in the eye.  What I see scares me more than anything else ever has.  His eyes are cold, dark, and empty.  There is no longer any trace left of the child I once knew.  And I know; I know that I am responsible for beating that last bit of hope and innocence out of him.  I don't even try and stop him when he walks away without having put his shirt back on.

I feel a little heartbroken that I wasn't able to make Harold see my side of things.  I will continue to try.  It might be easier when Father is gone.  I will work harder to make him forgive me next time.  Meanwhile, I can still feel pretty good about standing up to Father finally.  My heart a little lighter than it was a moment ago I head to my room to change out of yesterday's clothes.

Knowing the consequences might be great I decide to blow off my chores and make my way into town.  Entering Brian's bar I scan the sparse mid-day crowd to find him.  I walk over to where he stands counting up his liquor inventory and clear my throat to get his attention.

"Taylor."  He replies a little more curtly than I expected.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?  Shouldn't you be at home doing daddy's bidding?"  I'm confused by the sneer in his voice and the way he is taunting me.

Deciding he's just in one of his moods; I try and smile hoping to cheer him up.  The smile doesn't quite reach my eyes and he smiles slightly at my effort.

"I did it Brian.  I stood up to him finally!"  I know I sound like an anxious puppy looking for praise but I can't help it.

"And?"

"Well, he slapped me.  But I still stood up to him.  I told him he couldn't use me to beat the slaves, and that he couldn't order me around anymore."

"Well that's great Justin."  Why does that sound more like an insult instead of the compliment it should be?  "But what else?  What next?  Did you tell him that owning people is wrong?  Did you tell him that you disagree with him about the idea of Maryland seceding the Union?  Did you stand up for anything you believe in?  Did you stand up for Harold's right to live a free life?"

I am at a loss for words.  I had expected Brian to be proud of me for what I did, not to be disappointed in what I failed to do. He slaps down a newspaper in front of me.  The large headline reading " _Ft._ _Sumter Falls_ _to Rebel Forces._ "

"The war has begun.  You are going to need to pick a side.  Ft. Sumter was the first battle.  It won't be the last.  There were riots in the streets of Baltimore last night.  The first bloodshed of this war was right here in Maryland.  Your father is going to Annapolis to vote on whether or not we should secede from the Union. You need to pick a side.  And until you do – you are not welcome in my home anymore.  No more hiding Justin."


	3. Riots Change Lives

  
Author's notes: Thanks KJ for your help with the last chapter! Thanks to “my girls”! Thanks for reviewing – every time you don’t review I kill a kitten. *grin*  


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Justin's POV

What a difference a day makes.  As I leave the bar I can't help but think how different things were yesterday.  Things were okay between Harold and me yesterday morning, and by the afternoon they weren't.  Yesterday evening my parents knew nothing of my friendship with Brian or of my perceived betrayal of our way of life.  And yesterday evening I laid safe and warm in Brian's bed and tonight I would not be welcome in his home.

Dejectedly I walk back into the house, pausing only briefly to glance at my mother in the kitchen, and continue on to my room.  I flop down gracelessly on my bed and try and think of how to fix the relationships with the three most important men in my life; my father, my childhood friend, and my…. The thought trails off as I try and figure out what exactly it is that I have with Brian.  I have heard the rumors about him.  The fact that he has never taken a wife and seems to have no interest in women has made him a source of scorn and ridicule in town.  It doesn't stop all the men in town from patronizing his bar, or all the single women from lusting after him.  What if those rumors are true?  And what does that mean for me?

I am disrupted from my thoughts by the sound of mother and father arguing loudly in another part of the house.  Leaving my room, my childhood sanctuary, I follow the sound of the fight into the kitchen.  

"You are not going to Annapolis now!  It is too dangerous."

"Jennifer, I'm a statesman and I will be in Annapolis to vote on whether or not we should secede from the union."

"No!  You must stay here.  It is too dangerous a time to be leaving your family alone."

He looks directly at me as he replies, "what family?"

Mother gasps and tears up, but she manages to look him in the eye and tell him "you are duty bound to support and protect this family!  Leaving in a time of turmoil is not the best way to protect us."

"What has happened?" I ask.

"There was rioting in the streets of Baltimore last night."

"I heard that earlier."  By the look on my fathers face I'm pretty sure he knows who already told me of the riots. 

"Yes well, given that news I do not wish your Father to travel to Baltimore as planned.  But he is determined to leave us anyway."

"Let him leave Ma, he has work elsewhere and I can take care of things here while he is gone."  I say all this while looking Father straight in the eye.  Perhaps if I show a bit more responsibility around the farm it will help mend my relationship with him.

"Son, that is the first intelligent thing I've heard you say in quite some time now.  With the Union army marching through our cities and causing such disturbances, we'll surely vote for secession now."

"You do what you have to do father, and I will too."

What I have to do.  What is it I have to do?  I never thought at 17 life would become so monumental.  It seems no matter what decision I make I will end up alienating someone important to me.  So whom do I choose?  How do I choose?  My first instinct is to turn to Brian for advice, but I can't do that anymore.  I have to go to him with a decision made.  

So I try and think logically.  And when that doesn't work I try and think what Brian would do.  The trouble is – I know what Brian would do.  He would ignore his parents, he would ignore society and what was right; and he would do what felt good for him.  I remember thinking a hundred times before that I wish I could be like that; so why can't I?

I journey back towards town to visit Brian for what seems like the 20th time in the last day two days.  My confidence increased considerably while I walked into town and now I am sure I can make Brian see things my way.  Entering the bar again I scan the moderately sized room and realize Brian must be working in his office now.

I open the door and stride right into his office without knocking.  At the incredulous look he gives me I simply respond, "what?  You said I wasn't welcome at your home.  You said nothing about your office."

I can't help but smile a little as I watch him struggle to keep his own smile at bay.  It ends up looking more like a smirk, but that will do.

"Listen Brian, I have a few things I want to say and you are going to hear me out.  Understand?"  He simply nods his head so I continue.

"My family is important to me.  I need for you to understand that.  You are also very important to me.  I hope you know that."

"I do."

"Good.  Now I have stood up to my Father and expressed how I feel.  You may want more than that.  But that is all I can give at this time.  It is all I am willing to give.  I do not wish to drive my Father away."

"And I do not wish to drive you away Justin.  I just overreact sometimes.  In truth, I'm afraid.  I'm afraid that he will find a way to turn you, to drive a wedge between us.  And in doing so I will lose the only person who has ever really understood me."

I step a little closer to him and lay my hand on his forearm.  "We mustn't allow our friendship to become a casualty of this war Brian.  No matter what my Father does or how the war goes.  Agreed?"

"Agreed."

**April 27, 1861**

A week has gone by and unfortunately I have been so busy running the farm while Father is gone that I haven't been able to see Brian at all.  Each day I foolishly hope that he will stop by our farm to see me, but I know that he never will.  When Brian looks at the townsfolk all he sees are customers who will come in and spend their money.  He has no friends in town other than me, and with the exception of some occasional trips to neighboring towns or the city he never goes anywhere.

So as each day passes, I work hard at the farm to make Father proud.  It is my plan to show him how much I have grown up and that he can count on my to help support the family even if I don't agree with him on some things.

Things are also no better with Harold.  He has taken to calling me sir or Master Justin like he would my Father.  I truly do not know what, if anything, I can do to mend that relationship.  I have made sure this week to lighten his workload while he still recovers from the injuries I helped to inflict.  I hope this little measure will go a long way at some point.

Father is due to return tomorrow or the day after and then I hope to return to my normal routine of visiting Brian nightly.  But from now on I will not do it in secret.  It is at that moment in my thoughts that my mother comes bursting into the barn.

"They've arrested your Father!" she expels like it's the last breath of air she had in her.

"What?!?"

It takes her a moment to regain her breath and continue, "They've arrested your Father.  He voted for secession.  The vote failed, Maryland is still in the Union.  But in light of the riots and the amount of confederate sympathizers there were in the state house, President Lincoln has declared martial law and arrested those that voted for secession."

"They can't do that!"  It comes out like a whisper but in my head it is a shriek of anger and fear.

"Unfortunately they can honey.  Its war time and they suspended Habeas Corpus."

Sometimes it's infuriating having a mother who used to work for a lawyer.  "What does that mean mother?!?"

"It means they can arrest your father.  And they really don't have to show a reason why.  At this moment in our state; the government can do whatever it wants."

My knees falter and I sink down to the floor; I briefly wonder at the fact that I stayed upright for so long.  

"What are we going to do mother?"

"I'll tell you what you are going to do.  You are going to join the confederate army and…"

Suddenly on my feet again I am yelling at my mother, "I'm going to WHAT?"  

"Justin you must" she pleads "your father would want it, and you must keep our family's name from disgrace.  What would the neighbors say if they hear that your father is in prison and you did nothing?"

"I don't care what the neighbors think mother!  I don't agree with Father when it comes to this war and you know it.  You simply can't ask me to fight for the other side.  You can't!" I storm out of the house and head directly into the woods towards Brian's house.

As I approach the house I realize I have worked myself into a panicked frenzy.   Stepping onto the front porch I take a few deep breaths and knock on the door.  Knocking feels strange, it feels wrong, but given the events of last week I feel it best to knock and have Brian let me back in on his own terms.  I hear his voice call out to me from the other side of the door telling me to come on in, so I once again enter the house I feel is my safe haven.  As I cross the threshold I can't help but realize there is no way to keep me safe from this.

He looks at me and I look at him.  We stare across the room at each other for what seems like hours.  Finally sensing something is wrong he breaks first and starts talking.

"What's wrong Justin?  Come sit down.  You look stricken."

I don't know how to begin.  I don't know what to say or how to tell him what it is my familial obligations would make me do.  I consider asking him to hide me here until the war is over, but I know I can't do that to Mother.

"What?"  He demands and I can sense he is getting impatient, but also worried.

"Father was arrested.  We are under a state of martial law."

"What in hell was he arrested for?"

"For voting for secession.  It lost.  We are still a union state."

"Well that's good at least.  But I don't understand.  Why arrest your Father?"

"They have apparently arrested groups of men they think are confederate sympathizers.  Brian…"  

This time he is silent.  He waits while I try and find the words.  I think he waits silently out of fear for what I am about to say.

"Mother wants me to join the army."

"Justin that's not going to happen.  She needs you now.  She needs you more than Lincoln does.  He can find some other boys to have in his army."

With a sigh I shatter the little fantasy he has going; "Not that army; the other one.  The confederate one."

He just stares at me with his jaw dropped for a few moments.

"Brian what should I do?  My father has been arrested for no reason.  My mother thinks he would want me to fight for his beliefs and his honor.  Brian what do I do?  I do not want to fight in this war at all, and I certainly don't want to fight for the confederacy."

"Justin I am the wrong person to ask.  I would hide you here if I thought you would let me.  I don't want you to go.  I want you around for a long time…. I…"

He just stares at me for a minute, some emotion dancing in his eyes that I cannot decipher.  I start wondering if I should leave, if he will find a way to say anymore when I notice that his face is moving slowly closer to mine.  As if drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, I lean towards him and I'm shocked to find I'm not shocked when our lips meet.  Tentatively at first I taste him, its really just two sets of lips touching, then he parts his lips every so slightly and ever so slowly and begins to actively kiss me.  My mind is reeling but my body is responding.  I lean a little closer and part my lips a bit.  I feel his tongue come out and lick my lips slightly.  Wondering what he would taste like if I allowed myself a longer and deeper taste I too bring my tongue into our kiss.  I've never kissed anyone in such a way before.  Our tongues are dancing together, wrestling with each other and when they get a chance lips are pulling and nipping at each other.  I don't know how long we explore each other's mouths.  I don't know what it means.  But when we finally break apart I do know that I have to go.  

"I….. I have to go."  I bolt out the front door not even bothering to close it behind me and I don't slow down until I've hit the tree line of the woods.

I walk numbly home.  I cannot process the things that have just taken place.  My father is in jail.  My mother wants to send me to war.  And Brian….well Brian wants….I have no idea what Brian wants, but I get the sense that what he might want is me.  I just cannot think about it now.  Tomorrow.  Maybe I will be able to think tomorrow.

Returning home once again my mind is brought away from Brian and back to my mothers' request.  How can I tell her no?  I want to; no I need to tell her no, but how?  I spot a message on the kitchen table.  Picking it up I recognize my Fathers' handwriting and I instantly regret looking at it.  He has managed to get a message out through one of his powerful friends; and in doing so is once again ordering me around.  "Justin you must go.  You must join General Lee's army of northern Virginia.  You must fight for what is right Justin.  Do this, for me."  

I look up to see Mother looking at me expectantly.  "Do as he requests Justin.  It is war and if you are not with us, you are against us."

"Mother."

"No Justin.  You will either do as your Father and I ask or you won't.  But either way you will be leaving this house.  A few other boys in town are gathering their things together.  They are going to make their way into Virginia and then join Lee's army.  They are setting to leave at daybreak tomorrow morning."  With that she walks out the door, and I fleetingly wonder if I should ever see her again.

I'm just 17.  I am not prepared to have my parents disavow me.  I'm simply not ready for any of this.  I have heard tell of boys even younger than I joining these armies, so what makes me so special?  What makes me think I could live in a bubble here and not be truly affected by this war?  With a heavy heart I spend most of the night packing up a small parcel of things I want to have with me.  I grab the last small bundle of paper that I have so that I may write or draw along the journey.  I really have no idea what to pack, I have no idea what to expect.

All packed I can only think of one more thing I need to do before I leave town.  I must see Brian one last time and tell him I am going.  I know he will be disappointed, but I hope he will understand.  

As I stand on his porch again I can feel my lips tingling with the remembrance of our heated kiss just a few short hours ago.  I start to wonder if we shall kiss again before I go.  I'm puzzled to realize I am actually yearning to touch my lips to his again.  A few moments are spent day dreaming of kissing his plump raspberry lips before I realize there was no answer at the door.  Perhaps he did not hear me; I think it surely is okay if I let myself in again, especially after this afternoons' activity.  I reach for the knob and something in side me breaks when it will not turn.  He has locked it.


	4. Off to war

  
Author's notes:

Thanks to KJ. Also a quick thanks to those who are reading – I’m glad that you are interested in this piece. Please do not fear – Brian’s thoughts and feelings will be told soon – I promise! My primary research site for this fic so far has been civilwarhome.com so I must thank the owner of that site for the very useful information, especially the letters from actual soliders at that time.

* * *

Awakening this morning all I can feel is sorrow.  I know in the coming hours and days that fear and trepidation will take over, but for now it is just sorrow.  Sorrow at the knowledge that I will be leaving this morning, without having said goodbye to Brian, and it is quite possible I shall never see him again.

Mother has told me that Mr. Pearson has just resigned from the US Army and will be putting together an enlistment paper for the Confederate Army.  All I have to do now is go into town, sign a piece of paper, and my life will be forever changed.  

When I get to the center of town, I see that about twenty other young men and boys from town are getting ready to enlist.  Standing in line I feel eerily calm and resigned to my fate as a soldier.  After I sign the enlistment paper stating my intent Mr. Pearson sends me over to see Doc Mimm for a medical examination.  Not having realized this was going to be a part of the process, I suddenly find myself wishing that Doc will find something wrong.

Doc never has a wait so he has no anteroom to stand in; there is now a line of boys outside his office door waiting for their turn.  While I wait in line I start to wonder what life will be like for me as a soldier.  I really have no idea what to expect.  I have rarely fired a musket and know nothing of warfare strategy.  I'm honestly not sure what I have to offer other than an able body and an overly affectionate feeling towards the enemy.  

Finally my turn with Doc has come and I am made to strip bare.  Doc makes me jump up and down, bend over, kick and be kicked; he thumps my chest and my back soundly for what purpose I can not imagine.  He also examines my teeth and my sight.  I have never had to go through such a strange ordeal before, and naked the entire time!  I feel thoroughly exposed and scandalized.  After Doc has decided that I am fit enough for service he gives me a certificate saying so and sends me back to Mr. Pearson.

By early afternoon eighteen others and I are set out to Harpers Ferry.  Mr. Pearson tells us that location is the closest confederate recruiting station to us since we are still a Union state.  Perhaps the most difficult so far was watching the tear filled goodbyes most of my comrades shared with their family; while I had none to see me off.  Mother had said she would be too busy looking after things at the farm to journey with me into town and I had no time to try and visit upon Brian again.  We make our way with whatever possessions we deemed important enough to carry the distance.  

It takes us two days march to get to Harpers Ferry and when we finally arrive we are weary beyond anything we ever knew before.  There is a sense however of a necessity to endure and not complain.  It seems universally understood that if we should complain, or show lack of courage that we will be ridiculed, teased, and despised as a baby.  This made painfully obvious the first night of the journey when one of us complained about sleeping out in the still cold spring night air.  Mr. Pearson proceeded to explain the ways of punishment that exist these days in the army.  Such punishments I can't even imagine having to experience and do not wish to think upon any longer.

Entering the recruitment station we must all once again sign a paper indicating our purpose of intent; then when assigned to a company we sign the roll of the company.  We are all assigned to Jackson's brigade as that is the only one currently enlisting men at this station.  The roll also has each man's description, height, complexion, and occupation.  We are then once again put through a physical examination by an army surgeon.  This one would be just as humiliating as the last if we did not know what to expect.

We are now officially soldiers; given the uniform, boots, a heavy coat, cap, two large blankets and an oilcloth.  This was added to the knapsack full of underwear, soap, towels, comb, brush, paper, envelopes, pens, ink, pencils, knife, fork, spoon, and a great many other small things.  I cannot imagine carrying around all this for any length of time, weighing probably over twenty pounds; yet I also cannot imagine giving any of it up.

As members of Jackson's brigade we will be moving on from this border town soon and setting up a camp in Virginia awaiting our first orders. Jackson has divided us up into smaller groups of about ten men called a mess.  Each mess has a large camp chest filled with: skillet, frying pan, coffee boiler, bucket for lard, coffee, salt, sugar, meal, flour, plates, cups, tents and an axe.  These would be transported during marches in the large army wagons, but it all seems like such a large undertaking to me.

May 5, 1861

Dear Brian,

I regretfully must start this first letter with two apologies.  I apologize for not saying goodbye before I left town, and I further apologize for not writing you sooner.  Had I given you another chance I do not know whether you would have counseled me to stay or to go.  Sadly, I felt my decision was made for me.  Father sent word that he wished I would fight in his stead and so I shall.

I came to your house not long after I had left that last time to tell you I was leaving but your door was not open; at least not open to me.  I will not ask why that is, I will only hope that it was a temporary deviation from the usual circumstances.

Camp life here is odd; much time is spent around the campfire at night sharing stories and being friendly with each other.  Time is spent during the day with the more experienced soldiers and officers showing us new recruits the ways of combat and the means of war.  It is a strange dichotomy that I'm sure I will puzzle over for quite some time.

Justin Taylor

Harper's Ferry Camp

Army of the Shenandoah

Jackson's Brigade – 2nd Regiment

As I finish the letter I know it is cowardice to avoid the topic of the kiss Brian and I shared.  The longer time goes by the more I wonder if it is really something of any importance at all.  There was something so strange about it; yet it felt more suited to me than I think anything else ever has.  I fear Brian will not feel the same, that it was only an action he began out of fear.  Fear can drive a man to do great many things; it is currently driving me to avoid the topic of our brief intimacy and speak only of the mundane.

July 1, 1861

Brian it is a new month, and with that change I feel I am starting to become a new man.  Two months have gone by since I left and I have learned from the older soldiers about courage; a lack of courage here will get you shunned and ridiculed.  If only they knew how little courage I have shown when it comes to you.  I must confess not writing for some time due to anxiety over your response.

I am speaking of course of our bit of intimacy when I last saw you.  A kiss like that I have never shared with another person and I don't know if I ever shall again.  Men speak of their wives or their girls back at home and I can only remain silent.  It isn't until I spent a few nights here in the camp that I realized I, like you, seem to have no interest in women.  I do not understand this.  How can it be so?  Am I correct in assuming you too have no interest in women or are you merely too picky for your own good?

I do not know a great many things Brian.  I do not know how you feel about me.  I do not know if I am allowed to feel for you what I do.  I do not know what should happen to us if your feelings are not in accord with my own.  I do not know if feeling this way about you is wrong.  

I have heard before of men seeking pleasures from other men when no women are about.  That is not what I want.  To me you are not a replacement for another, you are the only one I can see myself seeking pleasure with.  In fact you are the only one I can see myself sharing a life with.  But can two men do that?  Are they allowed?  And if they are, would you want to?

I am troubled these days with thoughts of you and the fear of your response paralyzes me at times.  We have had small skirmishes with some small union regiments but they are usually stumbled upon and not entered into deliberately.  I fear when this war escalates that I will be too consumed with these questions of you that it will be a hazard to me.  

So with a confused mind I write to you, hoping that you will write back.  I pray you Brian, tell me how you feel; my very life may depend upon it.

Justin Taylor

Harper's Ferry Camp

Army of the Shenandoah

Jackson's Brigade – 2nd Regiment

July 15, 1861

Dear Brian,

I hope my letters are finding you well.  I have not gotten a reply, but none other in my mess have gotten letters from home yet so I will continue to wait.  

We are now in Virginia; a place that didn't seem very far away before now seems like a whole other world.  Tensions are rising steadily and the hopes of a short war are dwindling.  Our days are spent marching with a great deal of equipment hefted onto our backs.  The night campfires are still filled with camaraderie and the purest sentiments men can utter.  The days however drone on until only pain and weariness are familiar.  None of us complain for fear of contempt from the others though.  I could not imagine having to endure the contempt of those around me on top of this already heavy load.

The small fights that our brigade has found have not been terrible, we have hardly lost ten men in all so far, and most of those were from illness in camp.  

I pray all is well at home and that I hear from you soon.

Justin Taylor

Leesburg, VA

Army of the Shenandoah

Jackson's Brigade – 2nd Regiment

_Harper's Weekly – July 22, 1861THE BATTLE AT BULL'S RUN – THE FIRST MAJOR LAND BATTLE OF THE WAR_

_Public demand pushed General-in-Chief Winfield Scott to advance on the South before adequately training his untried troops. Scott ordered General Irvin McDowell to advance on Confederate troops stationed at Manassas Junction, Virginia. McDowell attacked on July 21, and was initially successful, but the introduction of Confederate reinforcements resulted in a Southern victory and a chaotic retreat toward Washington by federal troops._

July 29, 1861

Dearest Brian,

I am writing to you with a heavy heart.  Yesterday we were in quite a large battle with union troops here near the town of Manassas Virginia, running along a waterway called Bull Run. 

I do not wish to alarm you as to the dangers that surround me but I do so need to turn to you in this time.  

For the first time, I saw a man killed in battle.  We were standing to arms awaiting orders.  A shell plowed the crest of the elevation in front of our line, I ducked and as I did so I glanced back that way and witnessed its effect in the ranks.  The body of a young fellow suddenly disappeared, and on the ground where he had stood was a confused mass of quivering limbs which subsequently lay still.  I learned afterward the same shell carried away the top of a man's head in our own regiment.

Jackson has been nicknamed Stonewall Jackson and our Brigade was also given the title.  When other regiments were faltering and attempting to withdraw General Jackson ordered us to hold our ground and the union troops were unable to break our line of defense.  Following this success he has now been promoted to a Major General in the Army of the Potomac and our direction will likely change due to that.

Brian I shall write to you as often as possible even if I never receive a reply.  I must request that you continue, as you have in the past, acting as my friend, my confidant, and my advisor.

Please bear the trials of war with me Brian.  Without you I don't know if any part of the Justin you knew will survive.

Write soon.

Justin Taylor

Manassas, VA

Army of the Potomac

First Corps – Jackson's Brigade


	5. The Homefront

  
Author's notes:

AN: Thanks to my beautiful busy beta KJ – thanks for finding the time! 

* * *

**Brians POV**

April 27, 1861

Looking out the window I see Justin making his way towards my front door and in a panic I run to it and lock it. It seems so strange to lock the door at all, and even more strange to intentionally lock Justin out. I've been sitting here with my heart and my head reeling from the kiss Justin and I shared this afternoon. I can not believe I did that! I can't fathom what he must think of me now. There is a small nagging voice in my head that keeps whispering to me that Justin kissed me back; but I brush that thought aside continuously as a ridiculous flight of fancy.

I have known for quite some time now that I am odd. I have never found women intriguing, appealing, or at all attractive. For many years I presumed that I was alone with these feelings and felt a great bit of despair most of the time. I knew instinctively that I could never change and it would be pointless to try; so I would never apologize for the way I feel but I would also chose to live my life alone. I could not live a lie with a woman and no one could ever know of the oddity of my feelings.

Then one day all that changed. An older man from my hometown, a widower, must have sensed the longing in me and approached me one day. We slowly developed a relationship of sorts. It was purely physical but that is all that I as a young man wanted. When he died a few years later he left me all of his possessions and his money, creating the scandal that caused me to leave and move here.

My thoughts of the past are disturbed by the sound of Justin attempting to turn my door knob. The sound echoes around the quiet space of my home and also manages to drown out the loud thoughts in my head momentarily. I am disappointed when he only tries once, does not knock or call out to me, and returns home without a stronger attempt to find me. Perhaps he doesn't really want to find me is the thought that plagues me at the moment.

I wasn't in this town long before I found Justin and once again my body longed for the touch of a man. The problem was this time that man for whom I longed was in fact still a boy, a seventeen year old boy, but a boy none the less. He seemed to latch onto me as an elder and a mentor. I learned that he had a tremendous artistic talent which he has kept hidden from his tyrannical father his entire life. I learned he had never had a girlfriend but did not dare to hope that he would share the same peculiarity that I do.

With the war coming we had spent many nights discussing how we each felt, how neither of us could stomach the idea of slavery, even if it did make sense from a business standpoint. There was one slave his father owned in particular that he had a fondness for; Harold. I had been trying to counsel him for some time to be his own man; to stand up for what he believed in. It was the incident when he helped whip Harold that broke the tenuous grasp I had on control of my own feelings regarding this issue. I was disappointed, disappointed in my Justin. I do not know when exactly I started thinking of him as _my_ Justin in my head; but I do know that once I did think that way I never tried to fight it after that. It warmed my heart to think of someone as mine. All my other boyhood friends had wives they could call their own, someone to hold onto when the times got tough. I think that knowing this coming war would be some of the toughest times I've ever seen; I think I wanted to call Justin my own to provide a source of comfort. I suppose it is a ridiculous notion that anyone will ever be mine; I should learn to live with the simple fact that I will be alone forever.

Eventually my mind strays back to the dangerous territory of the afternoons' kiss. It was more wonderful than I had ever dreamed. The time I let Justin stay the night and was able to hold him secretly during the night was, I thought at the time, the best thing I would experience with this young man. I was wrong. The kiss was so tentative to begin with, I was sure he would pull away in disgust and our friendship would be over instantly. When he didn't pull away instantly, I began to wonder if it is just shock that keeps his lips pressed to mine or if he would let me explore his mouth further. I recall slowly running my tongue along his lips, trying with all that is in me to make this pleasurable for him. I was shocked when he began to kiss me back in earnest. My heart began to soar and then suddenly he was pulling away and then running away.

So now I sit here, sure that he realized what was happening and was disgusted. I presume that he returned to my house tonight to either say that he is off to war soon or that he no longer wishes to be friends. I knew that I just couldn't say good bye if he is off to war, and if it is the other that he wishes I do not know how I will bear that pain.

**May 11, 1861**

It has been two weeks since Justin left. I learned the next day that he did indeed go off to fight for the confederate states with some of the other boys from town. I am trying my best to understand his position and why he chose to fight for something he does not believe in. I suppose if I had cared at all what my parents thought of me I might have done the same thing.

There is a knock on the door which startles me because now that Justin is gone no one ever visits. Opening the door I am even more surprised to find the local letter courier at my door. Once he is gone I can only sit in my chair and stare at the letter. It is obviously from Justin given the markings and I recognize his script on the front.

After reading this letter I am even more concerned about our state of affairs than I was before. He made no mention of our kiss, like it never existed. Perhaps it didn't, perhaps it only existed in my mind. In truth I know it happened. I know my lips continued to tingle for quite some time even after he had fled. If I know it happened, and he must surely know it happened, then why doesn't he mention it? 

I am convinced that he must think me an abnormality. 

And since he must think me so, then why does he write? Is it simply because it is habit for him to turn to me? Is it because he feels he can not turn to his mother or father with his true feelings? Am I just a friend of convenience? Or is he perhaps just writing to me to show other soldiers that he does have someone to write to back home? 

This constant questioning of his motives will drive me insane so I burn his letter and hope that it will fade from my memory. I will wait and see if anymore letters come. Perhaps an answer to at least one of my questions will be in those.

**June 2, 1861**

It has been over a month since Justin left, and three weeks since I received his letter. I have not gotten another one so I can only assume that the first was his way of slowly easing himself out of our friendship. I do worry though everyday that the lack of a new letter is actually an indication of death. Whenever I find myself thinking that way I have to relive our kiss just to feel something other than despair for a moment.

I'm once again interrupted by a knock and my heart soars at the prospect of another letter. It quickly plummets however when I open the door and look into Jennifer Taylor's concerned face. She doesn't look like a grieving mother I think, but I could be wrong. The first few seconds while we stand and stare at each other crawl by feeling like a year in every second. Finally, I step aside and motion for her to come in.

"Mr. Kinney, I know that you and my son are friends and I wonder if you have heard from him."

Justin didn't write his own mother? He wrote to me, but he didn't even write her a simple 'I am well' letter? This astounds me and my mind reels with the possible meaning this holds for me. I look up and realize she is looking at me waiting for an answer.

Selfishly I lie to her. I tell her that I have not heard from him. If he isn't writing to her he must have a reason. If he is still writing to me as a true friend than I will not betray his confidence; so I lie.

I feel bad when a tear flows down her face and she stands in my house wringing her hands together. 

"Do you know if he is mad at me? For telling him he had to go to war or he had to leave our home?"

"You did what? You kicked him out and sent him to war? How could you do that? That isn't a mother's love!"

"I know Brian. I was confused and scared. I felt pressured by my husband and his influential friends. I just hope Justin makes it through this and can eventually forgive me. If you do hear from him can you please keep me informed?"

"I can't do that Jennifer. If he wanted you to know what was going on with him he would write to you himself."

She gasps slightly as if I had struck her but she says nothing further. Dejectedly she turns back towards the door and makes to leave, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Jennifer," she turns around a look of hope ghosting across her face "If I hear from him I will write to him and tell him you came by and that you are concerned. That is the most I can promise."

**July 9, 1861**

I have read and reread Justin's most recent letter so much the edges have already become worn and frayed. I feel both at once elation and a tremendous fear. Justin feels something for me, something beyond a simple friendship. He was not disgusted by the kiss I initiated, he in fact speaks of us sharing pleasures and possibly a life together. This is one area that I can not advise him in, I am no wiser than he in the ways for two men to have a relationship.

Dear Justin,

If you were not aware already you are much braver than I. I received but did not respond to your first letter due to so many fears I can not innumerate them. I will tell you that I was afraid you would reject me after I kissed you. This is also the reason my door was locked to you the evening before you left. 

You are so very brave for sending me this letter explaining your feelings. I have many feelings to confess for you. I have for some time now admired you. I have admired your strength, bravery, beauty, and artistic abilities. I do not know either if others will allow us to feel such things for each other. But I do also know that I don't care. I only care about how you feel. 

I will confess to having known the pleasures of other men before. When I was not much older than you I had a type of relationship with a man from my town. I have also found some other men in recent years to use for pleasure. I know you are aware of the trips I made out of town for no obvious reason. Seeking the pleasure of another man was the reason for those trips. Justin, these men meant little to me other than an outlet for feelings I have long kept to myself. I wanted you to know however that I have experienced the pleasures you spoke of. I hope you keep this confidence to yourself as you have the other things I have confided in you.

Please keep writing. I get anxious when I do not hear from you. I fear the worst. I look forward to having you home again. Perhaps at that time we can discuss this again. In the meantime I do not think it is prudent for us to discuss it anymore this way. If someone should discover these feelings you would likely face a variety of repercussions. Please be careful Justin. 

Oh and write to your mother.

Yours,

Brian K.


	6. The course of war never did run smooth

  
Author's notes:

Thanks to my pushy beta KJ! Please note that sometimes the dates of the letters from one chapter to another will overlap or move slightly forward or back in time a lot. It is not my intention to confuse you – more to compensate for the passage of time. This chapter starts at a time in between two letters from chapter 4 – sorry if this is a tad confusing.

* * *

**Justin's POV**

**July 17, 1861**

I'm surrounded by fighting, death, and disease; but at this moment I feel nothing but joy. Just two days ago I sent off a letter to Brian with some small details of my life here. I was beginning to think he would never respond. And now I am looking at a letter that holds more promise and more good news than I could have ever really hoped for.

I've been sitting here for the last few minutes trying to figure a way to respond without being obvious with what I am talking about. Brian is right that I do need to be careful, for his sake as well as my own. I have never heard of two men trying to be with each other before, but I'm sure if I had that it would have been spoken of negatively and harshly. I need for Brian to know how happy he has made me and that I look forward to seeing him again more than anything else.

Dearest Brian,

I am filled with such delight now that I have received your letter of July 9. The life of which you speak intrigues me and I look forward to exploring it with you. I am only filled with trepidation over your increased experience in this pursuit over mine. Should you think I am pathetic for not knowing my way? I am glad however that one of us shall know what to do and we need not fumble our way through it. I very much look forward to being your apprentice in this endeavor when I return home.

Please continue to write to me. I miss home, but most of all I miss you. I will send a letter to Mother directly.

Justin Taylor

Leesburg, VA

Army of the Shenandoah

Jackson's Brigade – 2nd Regiment

__________________________________________________________

Dear Mother,

Brian has told me I should write to you and let you know that I am well. We have seen a few small fights; Jackson has been working hard to train those of us without any previous military experience. Which as it turns out is a great many of us. 

I will try to write you regularly so you needn't worry too much.

Justin Taylor 

Leesburg, VA

Army of the Shenandoah

Jackson's Brigade – 2nd Regiment

**Brian POV**

**July 21, 1861**

It has only been a few days since I sent my letter to Justin so I know it is foolish to think the one I presently hold in my hand is a response to that one. My biggest fear is that this letter will be one of regret withdrawing all that he said in the previous one. I shake off the thought, open and read the letter. To my great relief it is a simple letter that he has sent me explaining the things he is going through these days.

**July 29, 1861**

Dear Justin,

I look forward to being your mentor in our future joint venture. 

Please keep writing; I cherish the letters and the knowledge that comes with them that you are well. I will not always respond but please know your words are dear to me.

Yours,

Brian

**August 5, 1861**

Justin has written to me with a heavy heart and I feel his pain. The boy I first met here, the one of innocence and laughter, that boy is gone. It was foolish of me to think that war would not change him; (change to;) I suppose I never thought on it much. War will change him a great deal, I realize that now, I only hope it will not change him beyond my recognition. I sit down to write a response immediately, and I am quite distressed that I cannot offer him comfort in person.

Justin,

I received your letter of your experience at Bull Run. It troubles me greatly to think of you in these great battles. I wish I could offer you some type of comfort, but how to do so fails me at the moment. My inability to help you through this should not deter you from writing to me about these things. I know that you would go a bit crazy if you didn't have anyone to talk to. So please turn to me.

Please, I beg of you stay safe. I want you back with me soon, and I want you back safely. 

Brian K.

Later that day Jennifer visits again. She has not been here once since she asked me to get Justin to communicate with her. As I open the door to her I wonder what she wants this time.

"Jennifer."

"Brian."

"What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to thank you for having Justin write to me. I can tell by his letter he is still unhappy with me, but I hope in time that will change."

"You're welcome. Is that all?"

"Uh….no….I…." she hesitates before continuing "I guess I just wanted someone to talk to. Justin seems to trust you so I feel I can too. I hope that is alright. Its just that with both Justin and Craig gone I find myself craving adult conversations."

"Don't you have quite a few other adults on your farm you can talk to?"

"Well those are slaves," she sputters "it would not be proper."

"You should forget proper. If you want to talk to someone, do it."

"My husband would not approve, and even though he is in jail in Annapolis now I know somehow he would find out if I was consorting with the slaves."

All I can do is snort. This woman has no one to talk to in her mind, so she comes to me; I will not be sympathetic.

"Jennifer…" I begin but she cuts me off before I can ask her to leave.

"Mr. Kinney, my husband is in jail and my son is gone because I sent him away. You are the closest tie I have to him; please do not turn me away."

I let her stay for a few minutes more until she has talked herself out. She proceeded to tell me about Craig being difficult in jail. He will likely be stuck there longer than the others because of his bad attitude and behavior. I can't help but feel a little glad that Craig is stuck in prison while he sent Justin off to a prison of a different sort.

She eventually leaves me alone again. I spend my night doing what I do most nights since Justin left, I relive our kiss, I reread his letters, and I think about our reunion. How different it will be now that we are both aware of our feelings towards each other. 

This is how my life and Justin's continue for over a year. The only contact we have is through the written letters, but every night I long to hear his voice and to feel his lips upon my own.

I track the progress of the war from both sides, but pay careful attention to the movements of the Army of the Potomac – specifically Stonewall Jackson's brigade. His peninsula movement keeps Justin on the move and constantly in harms way. I am grateful however that Justin ended up enlisting with Jackson. He spent time to train his men and I believe this has kept Justin alive longer.

The war seems to be bringing Justin closer to me, but it will not be close enough until he is in my arms.

_Harpers Weekly_

_The bloodiest day in US Military history as General Lee and the Confederate Armies are stopped at Antietam in Maryland by McClellan and numerically superior Union forces. By nightfall 26,000 men are dead, wounded, or missing. Lee withdraws to Virginia._

**Justin's POV**

**September 17, 1862**

I have been with the army in this war now for a year and a half. In that time I have seen a few large battles and many small skirmishes between the two armies. This day that we are beginning seems more monumental than the others somehow. We are once again in my home state of Maryland and how I wish I could simply march away from camp one day, return to Burkittsville, and never look upon another battlefield again.

Today found our command in a line in the rear of Sharpsburg; we are very tired with marching, exhausted with excitement, and savagely hungry. We stayed a short time, and on our return came down the road towards the Seventeenth. We were passing a group of soldiers lying behind a fence watching the flash of the enemy's artillery, which was on a high hill about a mile off. All at once a large twelve pound shell from one of these very guns struck the ground in the front, and then, as if cast by a child's hands, rolled gently around the group, and there it rested, with the fuse spluttering and blazing. The effect was ludicrous. We did not stop on the order of going, but went at once. Every man jumped, hopped, ran, or rolled from that harmless looking little black ball, and did not stop until they were at a respectable distance, when lying flat down, they awaited the explosion. It soon came, and shattered a whole panel of fence by the force of its discharge. How thankful we were that the fuse was so long.

The shells begin to sail over us as we lay close behind the fence, shrieking its wild song, a canzonet of carnage and death. These missiles howled like demons, and made us cower in the smallest possible space. The sound suddenly stops as the pain of hot lead searing into my body begins. I feel myself crumple to the ground, my eyes get heavy, and the next thing I see is Brian's face. 

____________________________________________________________________

AN: I must now thank an unknown solider whose account of this battle I used as inspiration for Justin's account. That writing was published in the **Southern Historical Society Papers Volume XI. Richmond, Va., January, 1883. No. 1**  



	7. After Antietam

  
Author's notes:

Thanks to KJ who beta’s when she is cold, when she is tired, and when she is moving! I hope. Thanks to Resident of Q13 and to Neece – you both got me motivated to get off my ass tonight and to write. Please note that anything in THIS chapter in italics is happening to Justin or are Justin’s thoughts. And finally one quick historical note – often battles were known by two names – one name to the confederacy and one name to the union. Basically Battle of Antietam was also the Battle of Sharpsburg. Same battle – but geography decided what you called it.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Brian's POV**

**Sept. 14, 1862**

**Burkittsville** **, MD**

War has come to Maryland in a big way. The paper is calling it the Maryland Campaign. I wish they would vacate our state quickly. All this campaign will succeed in doing is bringing Justin closer to me, but never close enough. People in town fled earlier today to get away from nearby fighting at our Crampton's Gap. Those of us who have stayed have had our homes turned into makeshift hospitals and residences either voluntarily or involuntarily. I voluntarily setup the backroom of my bar as a "hospital". The word hospital has to be used loosely, all around town places have been prepared for the invalid, the sick, and the walking dead. There are very few injuries happening on the battlefield that can be survived. Doc is taking care of amputating limbs in his office; just about everyone else is given morphine, a pat on the back and a good luck wish. So for the time I will have many men laid up on their backs in the backroom. Those that are awaiting death I supply with liquor once the morphine has worn off. One of the army's surgeons explained that they often run short on morphine and must ration it out – only one dose to the dying.

**Sept. 17, 1862**

I've just left the backroom for the fourth time today. In the last three days several men have come and gone in that room. Not all of them left walking upright or walking at all. Doc came by last night and had to cut off one man's leg after an infection had set in. There are more horrors here than I have ever wanted to see. And every moment, it leaves me even more concerned for Justin's safe return than I was before.

I'm a little surprised when someone enters the bar through the front door today; since this week most people are coming in the back. Jennifer walks in and ignores the two drunks at one table who protest at having a woman in the bar. She rushes over to me to report another battle has begun just 10 miles away. I guess when the army left Crampton's Gap they didn't get far before they bumped into each other again. She sent someone early this morning to get word of what was happening over in Sharpsburg.

_The shells begin to sail over us as we lay close behind the fence, shrieking its wild song, a canzonet of carnage and death. These missiles howled like demons, and made us cower in the smallest possible space._

By evening Jennifer and I are frantically trying to obtain information. Word is coming, along with many injured or dead; to our town that this battle is the largest and deadliest any of them have seen thus far. We know that Justin's Brigade was recently fighting over at Harper's Ferry, we just do not know if Lee sent for them to come this way knowing a battle this immense was coming. We have asked all men who could talk what group they were with, but so far none are from Justin's group. While we are desperate to find news of Justin we also realize that we can not neglect the men that are coming to us for help, we would not want Justin neglected if he should go to a neighboring town for help. 

_The sound suddenly stops as the pain of hot lead searing into my body begins. I feel myself crumple to the ground, my eyes get heavy._

Men who are able are walking to hospitals in Sharpsburg. Those buildings and doctors have quickly been overwhelmed and so men who are unable to see to their own care are taken to other towns on carts, or simply left to die on the battlefield. The fight rages on the battlefield, and a fight to save these men rages on all around the area.

_Now that the fighting is focused on another part of the field, the medical corps gathers up the bodies, both living and dead, that are lying near the fence, puts them in carts marked with the green flag and takes them away. There is no time now to distinguish between living and dead, that will happen later. A cart carrying several soldiers, Justin included is taken to the town of Burkittsville, they are dumped onto the ground with only oil sheets laid down to protect them. The medics know that this town is already filled to capacity with soldiers, so this load is left to die._

THE SURGEON AT WORK AT THE REAR DURING AN ENGAGEMENT – Winslow Homer

_I can hear the moans and the cries; I can smell the blood and the death. I realize now that I will die here on this battlefield. I thought for a moment I was being moved, but I believe that was only in my head. I wanted so desperately in that moment to open my eyes and let someone know I am still alive, but they would not open. My eyes and my mouth remained closed despite the screaming in my brain ordering them to open, to help me fight death. But the movement stopped, and I had been unable to get anyone's attention. So now I am sure I am going to die here, so very close to home, and yet so very far. I wonder what will become of Brian. Will he move again, will he find another person to care about, will he forget me? I am just going to rest my head now, no more thinking, no more anything._

I stay well into the evening time to care for the men who have been left at my makeshift hospital room. Finally, weary and still quite worried I return home, just to spend the night wondering where Justin is right now. Leaving the bar I choose to go the long way home just to avoid Doc's office where I know there will be screaming from the men whose limbs are being cut away now that Doc has run out Chloroform to give to anesthetize them.

Civil War "Hospital" – Courtesy of Sonofthesouth.com 

**Sept. 18, 1862**

I trudge back into town having barely slept at all. I had the sense all night long that Justin was already dead and we just didn't know it yet. I know I should remain optimistic, but the reports from the field are horrific and the potential number of dead is staggering. This time I am however not a coward and I do walk past Doc's office.

I hear a soft moan coming from the pile of supposed dead men left on the ground. I realize instantly what this means so I turn back to look at the group of men I just passed. I can feel my heart skip a beat and then begin to race when I see Justin's beautiful face among that group. Can I dare to hope that he is the one I heard moan a moment ago? Rushing over to where he is, I drop to my knees and begin untangling his body from the others. I am beyond making any type of noise as I lift up his broken and limp body into my arms. As I stand up to carry him away I hear a moan escape his lips and almost drop to my knees again. Steeling my resolve I rush to Doc's door only to discover he isn't there. Moving on I take Justin into the backroom of the bar and lie him down on the only empty cot. Rushing out front I tell my barman that he needs to find Doc and Jennifer Taylor as quickly as possible and bring them here immediately. I grab up a wash cloth and basin filled with cool water as I hurry back to Justin's side.

I sit there for what seems like an eternity willing Doc to hurry. Justin has made no more noise, so I have simply tried to clean off as much blood and dirt from him as I can so as not to startle his mother. Repeatedly I dip the cloth into the cool water, wring it out, and run it across and down his face. Slowly he starts to look like his usual self again; skin of pale porcelain that is just a little too pale now and lips that are usually a shade of cinnamon are now a touch too blue. I realize he must be quite cold and that will surely not help whatever is wrong with him so I cover him with a blanket and keep willing Doc to hurry.

Jennifer arrives first and frankly is not much help. She just sat down and stared at him like he was already dead and that she had given up. I will not give up on him that easily so I ignore her and focus on Justin. I've stopped willing Doc to hurry; I'm too busy willing Justin to keep breathing. I'm so busy doing so that I don't even realize Doc has come in until he is grabbing me around the shoulders and moving me out of his way. Suddenly, I feel quite helpless and join Jennifer in her silent vigil in the corner.

Doc examines Justin for several minutes before he delivers a shot of morphine and steps over to us. I'm not sure I am breathing while we wait for what Doc is going to say, I simply hope that Justin is breathing for both of us. 

"His injury is not too severe. He was probably lucky that the field surgeons thought him dead, if they had treated him on the field they would have amputated his arm where he was shot." Jennifer whimpers at that but makes no further noise.

"You don't think it needs to be amputated?" I have to ask. I don't want him to tell me Justin will be fine today and then tomorrow change his story.

"No I don't. His wound is actually quite minor compared to many others. He seemed like he was more severely injured because another solider that fell atop him bled quite a bit and this made Justin appear greatly injured. He will need to rest up for awhile, his shoulder will need to heal, but he should be almost like new soon. I've given him morphine to take away the pain and he will likely sleep through the night. Now if you'll excuse me I must be getting on to the rest of my patients."

"Thanks Doc." I manage to whisper. It's another half hour at least before another word is spoken.

"Thank you Brian. Thank you for finding him and getting Doc here quickly."

"Don't thank me Mrs. Taylor, I wish I would have found him yesterday, but beyond that I wish he was never in this situation." I give her a look so that she knows I am referring to her sending Justin off to war.

At an impasse, we sit and watch over Justin for the remainder of the night.

**Sept. 19, 1862**

Justin's POV

I am waking up, but I am confused. The last thought I had was that I would never wake up again. I slowly blink my eyes open and I am shocked to find myself staring at Brian. I figure I must be dreaming so I go to close my eyes again and go back to sleep.

"No Justin! No, stay with me. Keep your eyes open. Look at me." I hear a pleading in his voice. Wait….his voice? His voice, his eyes, his beautiful face, his hand is holding mine; its real. Brian is real, I am real, and being here with him is apparently real. Excited at this prospect I try to sit up but his hands on my shoulders gently hold me down. It's then that the pain starts to invade my senses and I cry out from the pressure on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry Justin. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I need you to lie still for awhile longer."

I look into his eyes and tell him, "you didn't hurt me Brian. The gun shot did." He smirks a little at that and I feel like it is two years ago, long before this war ever divided us, so I smile back.

Suddenly without warning uneasiness settles over us, he looks at me and the shared memory of our last minutes together before I left pass between us. The potential reality of the things we wrote about in letters is almost oppressive. 

"Brian, I…"

"Not here Justin, not now," he cuts me off. Then his eyes scan the room around us and for the first time I take in our surroundings. I realize we are not alone. There are other men here, and that now can not be the time to talk about last April, so I simply nod my head in understanding.

"Your mother was here earlier, but she went back to the farm this morning to get changed and she will be bringing back a change of clothes for you. I think she is being optimistic but it kept her busy and got her out of here for awhile."

"Brian, how did I get here?" And with that we are quickly falling into old patterns and habits. The familiarity and comfort level comes back while he tells me the story of the last few days. In return I tell him for the first time my stories from war face to face. I can tell that this week has made the war very real to the people here at home, and that they too will never be the same.

Later in the day a member of my regiment comes through town and assesses the wounded soldiers and decides their fate. We learn that my fate is three months of leave. I have been given three months to recuperate and spend my leave here with my family before I will have to return to the war.

By this time Mother has returned and is delighted to hear that I will be spending the next three months at home. I am only a little happy to ruin the little fantasy she has going on in her head.

"Mother, I'm not coming home to your home."

"What? Of course you are. Justin you are hurt, you need to heal, and you need me to take care of you. Of course you are coming home!"

"No Mother, I'm not."

"Well then where will you go? You can not return to war in your condition yet!"

"I will find a place. But I can't return to your home. You kicked me out to fight in this war, and it isn't over yet. I will not be returning home until it is over or I am dead and you can bury me in the family plot." When she gasps I realize I may be being a bit harsh, but the bitter feelings I left town with have come rushing back to the surface at her sudden attempt at protecting me.

"He can stay with me." Brian says it with such confidence that I am surprised. How will he justify it to her, to the town, to me? "I have an extra room, it is simply used as storage now, and he can stay in that room while he heals."

I find it interesting that he doesn't even look at me when he decides this for us. I wonder if he is afraid I will tell him no as well. I, of course, would not do that. My body is starting to get hot at just the thought of three months virtually alone with Brian. No sneaking in and out. And this time we have a little something more to talk about.

Mother stares at us both for several minutes before she seems to resign herself to the arrangement Brian laid forth. Looking right into his eyes she says "Take care of my son", turns and walks away. Brian says nothing further as he too leaves the room.

A week has passed in Brian's bar. Doc comes by daily to check up on me and the others. Brian is here constantly, I don't know if he was back here this much before I got hurt or not. We have found a few minutes each day to talk, but we never speak of anything between us, what will happen when we go to his house, or anything of any real importance. The subject is taboo here and we both know it. Today when Doc checked me over he told me that I was well enough to go home now. Of course no one else in town knows that home will be with Brian instead of the home I grew up in. It would be too much embarrassment and shame on the Taylor family, so we all let them believe what they want. It actually makes it easier on Brian and I, we don't have to lie, because they didn't ask us; they assumed.

So today Brian is leaving the bar early to take me home. Not a word is spoken while we walk to his place, the silence growing heavier and thicker with each step. Nervousness is consuming me, and something else entirely is consuming Brian. Fear keeps us from speaking, or from even looking at each other. His back is straight and rigid, full of tension as we walk. I of course have a sling around my arm and shoulder; we make quite a pair.

Walking up to the door I remember the last time I was here and it was locked, this time however Brian is opening the door and ushering me through.


	8. Homecoming

  
Author's notes:

Thanks to my big bad beta KJ (who wouldn't let me name this chapter something naughty)! While condoms did exist at this time, safe sex was not a common practice so I don't feel that this is unsafe sex. It's just sex. MJD – I hope this is NC-17 enough for you. And with no further ado….at long last here ya' go. 

* * *

**Brian's POV**

Now that I have Justin here I'm not sure what to do with him.  I know what I would like to do with him but I am overcome with fear.  A gripping fear that the sentiments he wrote to me over a year ago were the foolish writings of a scared young man, or perhaps he has changed his mind, or possibly… well there are just so many things that could have changed between that time and now.  I have been with other men in my life and there were no feelings.  Mostly it has been anonymous sex; I only knew the name of one man.  Paul was my first; he was older and seemed so knowledgeable in the ways of the world and in the ways of pleasure.  Neither Paul nor I ever had feelings for each other; we knew instinctively that we were only together for fun and for a short time.

Justin is different, he has been from the moment I met him.  I didn't know why in the beginning; I should never have so readily accepted his friendship and attention; but I couldn't stop myself.  I began to crave his visits, needing  to hear his voice, and longing to see him again after he would leave.  Then we kissed that one time and I'm fairly certain the earth fell off its axis.  Suddenly he is here in my home again, this time he will be staying for three months and I don't know what to do with him.

I look across the room at him and he is still standing just inside the door, holding his wounded arm to relieve the pressure on his shoulder and looking more nervous than I feel.  Suddenly I realize that I have to be the Paul in this situation.  I need to be the worldly and knowledgeable one.  

I take a deep breath and ask him if he is going to come all the way in or not.  He nods his head slightly and as he moves into the room he seems to relax a bit.

"Uh, Justin."

"Yes?"

"I have a confession to make.  There is no bed in the extra room."

**Justin's POV**

I never thought I would be so nervous just being in Brian's house but I can't seem to move forward beyond the doorway.  Brian finally seems to come out of the trance he was in for a few minutes and asks me if I am going to come in.  I nod because I do not trust my own voice, but I do feel the tension starting to ease up.  I'm hoping that the longer I am in this familiar place with Brian the more at ease I will feel.

Then he confesses to not having an extra bed and I realize that I knew that.  Why I hadn't thought of it earlier when he suggested I come here to stay I don't know.  And suddenly I am bowled over with the realization that Brian invited me to his home for three months, with every intention of me sharing his bed with him.

A relief rushes through me, reducing a fear I didn't realize I had; that Brian would have changed his mind about wanting to be with me.

I smile slightly, walk over to him and place my hand on his forearm. 

Looking up into his eyes I tell him, "Brian you wrote to me of having had physical pleasures with other men.  I have not, but I want to.  I want you.  I don't know what to do; if you are willing I would like you to guide me.  I want you to touch me Brian."

He gasps slightly at hearing me tell him that, and then ever so slowly he lowers his lips to mine.

**Brian's POV**

Justin asks me to touch him and I nearly lose it.  

Slowly I capture his lips with my own, just a gentle tasting at first, it's really more lips touching lips than anything else.  I part my lips slightly and suck his lower lip in between mine.  He moans slightly and my blood starts to race a little faster.  I realize that this night will be all about my needing to force myself to take it slow and easy.  

I tug on his lower lip slightly with my teeth and then use my tongue to caress his still closed lips.  Slowly he opens his mouth to allow my tongue access and I slide it in.  I probe the inner recesses of his mouth, tonguing the roof of his mouth and stroking his tongue with my own.  After a minute he becomes more engaged in the kiss and starts to duel his tongue with mine.  Pushing, pulling, pleasing; first in his mouth, then mine, and back to his again.  The kiss seems to go on forever but in reality probably only lasts 10 minutes.

I reach my arms around him and putting my hands on the small of his back I bring his body in flush against my own.  I can feel that our kissing has made him hard and I wonder just how much his sense of propriety has kept him from exploring his own cock.  I continue kissing him until he has fully relaxed against me and I feel it's  safe to take this to the next level.

I pull away from the kiss and look into his eyes.  He seems concerned that I stopped so I kiss him quickly on the lips again to reassure him.  I take a step back, grab the hem of his shirt and help get it over his head.  I know this is going to hurt his injured shoulder so I take it as slowly as possible, getting one arm out and the shirt over his head so that it can simply be pulled down the other arm.  I step back one more time, remove my own shirt quickly, and step forward again.  I hold him so close that our chests are pressed together and moving up and down against each other with the rhythm of our breaths.  

I lower myself down until I can drop my head is level with his chest and begin tonguing his nipples until the buds are taut and erect.  Just above my ear I can hear his constant stream of gasps and heavy breathing.  I drop down a little lower and run the tip of my tongue over his stomach, outlining each muscle and marveling at how being in the war has done his body good.  I can feel his stomach muscles fluttering against my face as I lave his belly button, circling the rim with my tongue, and gently pulling at the opening with my teeth.

**Justin's POV**

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god!

**Brian's POV**

Finally I am on my knees in front of him.  I kiss around the waistband of his pants and then slowly pull them, along with his underwear down his legs until he can step out of them.  I sit back slightly onto my heels and take a minute to survey the beauty of his body with my eyes.  He is pale and ethereal, his muscles have gotten more defined since he has been gone, and his cock is larger than I would have imagined for the slightness to his build.  I have always known he had a wonderful ass, but to know that the rest of him is just as wonderful has my body raring to go.

I place my hands on both his thighs and stroke them slightly to calm him.  I'm sure that what I am about to do will push him over the edge if I don't get him to relax a little first.  I look up at him and all looks of worry, fear, and nervousness are gone from his eyes, all that is there now is lust, and perhaps something more.

Rising back up so I am level with his cock I slowly lap at the head with my tongue.  I take just the cap into my mouth and suck.  Justin's knees start to buckle so I stand up, move us both up against the wall and drop back to my knees.  With Justin leaning up against the wall I feel secure that he won't fall over, and without warning I take his entire cock into my mouth, close my lips around the base and slowly pull away.  I repeat the process, bobbing up and down over his cock, alternating between sucking and licking.  Justin is panting above me, I'm not really sure if the breath is even making it to his lungs before he expels it out.  I move my hands slowly up his body until my fingers find his nipples.  I pinch and twist each one while continuing to make love to his cock with my mouth.  It only takes a few minutes of the dual sensations assaulting him before he is shooting into my mouth.  

I rise and return my mouth to his, some of his semen still in my mouth I give it over to him; pushing it into his mouth with my tongue and then sharing it back and forth again in another mind blowing kiss.  I grasp his hand and tug until he is in motion and following me to the bedroom.

**Justin's POV**

Brian kisses me with my semen filling his mouth and I have never tasted something so intoxicating; a flavor of Brian tinted with the flavor of my own body mixed in.

I'm barely coherent as Brian pulls me into his bedroom.  I never imagined I could feel as good as he just made me feel.  I can tell by his tone of voice and the look in his eye that he is not over but I can't fathom anything more wonderful than this last half hour.

He tells me to lie down on my stomach and I follow his instructions trusting him implicitly.  Every nerve in my body is on fire and all my senses are heightened, so I can hear him rubbing his hands together behind me.  Unsure at first what he is doing it becomes obvious when he wraps his hands around the muscles at my neck.  His hands are warmed slightly from the friction and he begins a slow and sensuous massage.

His massage encompasses my neck, shoulders, upper arms, down the muscles of my back, until he has made his way to my ass.  His hands lift away from me, I hear them rub together again, and then they are down at my feet.  He massages my left foot slowly moving up the leg until he once again reaches my ass.  He then repeats the process with my right leg.  I'm certain that at this moment I could not get anymore relaxed, I'm virtually boneless.  And yet his massage has reignited the fire in my loin again, my cock is hard, aching, and leaking once more.

Not knowing what Brian has planned next I am surprised when I feel his tongue on my ass.  I'm shocked that he is doing something so indescribably intimate and instinctively start to pull away, but Brian must be prepared for my embarrassment because he simply holds my body still and makes a little shushing noise to calm me.  I trust Brian so I decide to relax and let him do whatever he thinks we should.  He is making small circles with the tip of his tongue, slowly increasing the size of the circle and slowly driving me crazy.  I feel a little wild with need and try and rub my cock into the bed below me.  Brian grasps my waist and effectively holds me still keeping me from going any faster than he wants me too.  I sob slightly at the frustration and he tells me to relax and take it easy.  He tells me to trust him and I do.  

I decide to give myself over to the sensations his tongue is creating on my ass cheeks and relax back into the bed.  I tense up however when Brian pulls my ass cheeks apart and blows on my hole.  I had given a lot of thought to sex between men while I was away missing Brian, but I wasn't sure I could handle it.  Once again Brian tells me to relax and I try to.  

**Brian's POV**

I know Justin will tense up a little at each new step I try and take so I keep doing everything I can to relax his mind and his body.  Parting his cheeks again I flatten my tongue and lap at his hole.  I can feel it quiver and convulse in reaction to my tongue.  I smile a little at how trusting and open Justin is to me.  This type of sex is entirely new to me; actually caring about the pleasure of my partner is new to me.  I used to just assume they were having a good time and made sure I got mine.

Stiffening my tongue I probe into Justin's ass for the first time.  He tenses but I leave the tip of my tongue just inside his entrance until it stops protesting my intrusion and lets me in a little more.  Justin is gasping and moaning and I think he tried to say my name but it came out jumbled and incoherent.  I pull out and let a mouthful of saliva drop onto his opening, then push it into him slowly to help ease the way.  I work at his opening for several minutes.  Pushing in a little further each time, making sure to push as much saliva in as I can and making his hole as slick as possible.  I pull away and tell him to roll over.  When he does I see a look of disappointment on his face and I can't help but smile.  With a small kiss I tell him not to worry that I am not done yet.  Quickly I climb off the bed and rid myself of my clothes so I too am naked.

I lift his legs up onto my shoulders and settle in between his thighs.  I spit on my hand, rub it up and down my cock mixing it with the moisture that was already there.  One hand on his knee, the other holding my cock steady I slowly push into him.  Just the head gets through that first tight ring of muscle; he gasps loudly and tenses up.  I tell him to keep his legs up on my shoulders, freeing up my hands to rub his stomach soothingly.

**Justin's POV**

It hurts, oh god how it hurts.  My mind is screaming one minute to make him take it out, the next it wants more.  I feel so conflicted and tormented so I try and focus on the hand he has rubbing my stomach.  He tells me to breathe and I really try to breathe in and out steadily.

Brian is not moving at all.  I've never seen someone work so hard at staying still and I know it has to be hurting him to stay tense like that and hold off whatever he is feeling.  I look deep into his eyes and see the desire he has for me there.  That knowledge overrides the pain and I nod at him a little to continue.

Before he does he leans his upper body forward to kiss me.  Not like the urgent kiss that started this, but a gentler relaxed kiss.  

**Brian's POV**

I feel Justin relax under me as I kiss him so I push a little further in.  With each new thrust forward I pause, wait till he relaxes, kiss him, and then push again. 

Finally my entire cock is inside him and I have to sit still for a moment to take pleasure in his warm tight channel just hugging my cock.  The walls of his anus are slowly caressing the sensitive nerve endings of my cock with every breath he takes.  

With one final kiss I feel Justin is relaxed enough, so I start to move.  I pull out until just the head is inside him, and then slowly push back in.  Again and again.  Over and over. I keep withdrawing almost entirely and then pushing back in until I can sense the slow rhythm is driving us both insane so I speed up.  As my speed increases I pull out less and less.  Justin gasps every time my cock runs across his prostate.  Finally I'm just jabbing into him as fast as I can, hitting that sensitive spot deep within him consistently, and then we are both shooting.  Justin shoots all over my torso and I fill his ass with my semen.  

I collapse on top of him with my cock still buried deep and the feeling of my semen slowly leaking past my cock and out of his ass.

**Justin's POV**

After the initial pain subsided all I could feel was pleasure.  I knew Brian could provide me with pleasure I just didn't realize it would make me feel like I was coming apart at the seams at the same time.

He is thrusting into me quickly now and he keeps hitting a spot inside me that starts a mini explosion with each contact with his cock.  Finally he seems to be coming to a precipice of his own, and I just can't seem to hold on anymore so I shoot all over him.  While I am shooting I feel a wonderful warm filling sensation in my ass and realize that it is Brian's semen that is filling me and warming me from the inside.

He collapses down on top of me, and for the first time ever I fall asleep with Brian's dick up my ass, and his body covering mine like a blanket.


	9. Three Months - Lust

  
Author's notes: An extra big special thanks to KJ! Who has moved, started a new job, and become catholic all in the last two weeks – and has still managed to beta for me! MWAH! As for the rest of you, I hope you enjoy but don’t get too porn spoiled!  


* * *

**Brian's POV**  
  
I woke up this morning, after having managed to roll off of Justin at some point during the night, scared that after our one night Justin will have regrets. I lay there for several minutes just staring at him. He makes a very enticing picture, naked with the cover barely covering his legs, dried sweat and semen all over him, hair tousled and standing on ends; generally just looking very debouched and sensual.  
  
**Justin's POV**  
When I started to wake up I could instantly tell I was being watched, so I slowly opened my eyes and found myself staring into Brian's. What I saw there shocked me; fear. I chuckled a little to myself thinking I was the one who should feel afraid but I had never felt calmer in my entire life. I smiled at him to reassure him and then told him I wanted to give him back some of the pleasure he had given me.  
  
"Brian, can I touch you? I'd like to make you feel as good as I felt last night"  
  
His first response is just a sharp intake of breath, but then he smiles a little in relief and tells me to go ahead.  
  
"I need a little instruction here Brian; I don't know what to do." He chuckles a little while I blush in embarrassment.  
  
"Okay Justin, I'll talk you through it, what do you want to do?"  
  
"I'd like to….umm….I'd like to put my mouth on you." I look into his eyes after I manage to say it and he smiles and nods at me.  
  
"Okay, first thing to remember is to start out slowly, kissing and fondling, and well … apparently having this discussion, will make me hard. Then when you are ready start by licking different areas of it, the head is the most sensitive area."  
  
"Okay." I try and remember what he did to me yesterday and where I will position my body and what I'll do with my hands….  
  
"Stop thinking. Just feel. Whatever felt good to you, will feel good to me."  
  
He leans over and kisses me, long and intense, I feel him shift backwards away from me but my body follows so our lips can stay connected until I'm now leaning over him.  
  
Breaking away from the kiss, I kiss a path down his jaw, neck then onto his chest. I consider just skipping down to his cock now, but I remember how good it felt when he played with my nipples so I decide to do the same. I spend a few minutes tonguing each one and marveling at how they grow hard and erect.   
  
Moving on I work my way down his torso, stopping briefly to dip my tongue into his navel, then continue down his body. When I reach his groin his cock is hard, large, and dripping. I feel a sense of hunger in me and I can't wait to taste him.   
  
Eagerly I start to take his penis into my mouth until it hits the back of my throat and I choke.   
  
"Easy Justin, easy," he keeps repeating over and over while I cough for a short while.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"It's okay. That's why I said to take it slow, it will be awhile before you are able to take it all the way in, it takes practice." He and I grin at each other when we realize just how much practice we can get in during the next three months.  
  
I reposition myself between his legs and dip down to start again. This time I listen to his advice and start slow. I like the moisture that is on the head and I'm surprised at the salty taste, it tastes good so I keep lapping it up. I discover that every time I lick the slip, I'm rewarded with more moisture. Above me I hear Brian groan.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing, you're just torturing me!"  
  
I understand that to be a hint to move on and do something else, so I run my tongue down the underside of his cock and back up. When my tongue gets back near the head, just under the ridge, his cock jerks a little and I learn that that spot is sensitive for him, so I spend a minute flicking the tip of my tongue back and forth across that spot.  
  
I feel a little more relaxed now so I wrap my lips around the head and use my tongue to tease open the slit again.   
  
"Make it wet Justin, and you can use your hand on the shaft to help, but do NOT try and use the injured one."  
  
I open my mouth slightly around the head and let some saliva drip down onto the head until it eventually starts to run down the shaft of his cock. I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and rub it up and down slowly. I tighten my lips back around the head and move down his penis until I bump into my own hand. With my tongue flattened on the underside I move my head back off his cock and follow it with my hand. I settle into a steady up and down motion until Brian is writhing under me and groaning loudly.   
  
I can tell he is trying to resist thrusting up into my mouth or grabbing my head, so I break off his cock for a moment and make eye contact with him. He opens his eyes and looks into mine letting out a very loud groan. This time when I start the up and down motion again he lets himself put his hands on my head, gently running his hands through my hair.  
  
"Justin…Justin I'm….Justin I'm going to…..Just!" He groans out and then his body tenses and his warm fluid is filling my mouth. I quickly try and start to swallow it all, but some trickles out the side of my mouth and onto my chin. When I move my body up beside his he leans up and licks his own fluids off my chin and then kisses me deeply. After a minute we both just collapse back onto the bed and go back to sleep.  
  
Eventually hunger drives us both from the bed and into the kitchen. We are standing in his kitchen while he cooks eggs, both in underwear only. His are white and tight, reaching about mid-thigh. Mine are grayish and looser but about the same length. I try and hide from him that just watching him has made me hard again and carry on a regular conversation.  
  
"Tell me about what's been going on around here while I've been gone."  
  
"Uh, well….the usual really. A few of the farms are struggling because the husbands or sons have gone off to fight and there just aren't enough hands. We got word that two of the boys who left the morning you did have died. Your mother stops by occasionally to talk to me. I think she is lonely without you or your father there, and I know she regrets sending you away last year."  
  
"It's a little late for her to have regrets." I know I sound bitter but I just can't help myself.  
  
"Justin. She was trying to follow her husband's wishes. You're a man, you have a lot more freedoms than she does, without her husband she's not allowed to own land, she can't vote, she was scared and just reacted to the situation without thinking it through."  
  
"I know. In my head I know, but I was still seventeen and she sent me to a war where I could easily be killed."  
  
"Don't. Please don't. You have no idea what it felt like to find you laying on the ground bleeding. And you don't know how your mother felt. You have three months, I realize it won't be easy but perhaps before you are gone you can find it in yourself to forgive her.  
  
"Brian every day is scary. Every day is hard. She left me no real choice. She chose her husbands beliefs over her own son's safety. I'm not sure I can forgive her, but I will try."  
  
The eggs are ready so we settle down at the table and eat mostly in silence. There is one topic we both seem to be studiously avoiding; us and what will happen in the next three months.  
  
After our late morning breakfast we settle into a very old familiar pattern; Brian reading while I watch him. Only this time I can't draw so I quickly become restless. Brian is spared from me assaulting his body again with my lips by a knock on the door.  
  
We're both a little startled and we seem to have the same thought at the same time. How do we explain this living situation to anyone who might visit? Not having time to think about it now Brian answers the door to reveal Doc standing there.  
  
"Justin I stopped by your farm but your mother told me you would be spending your recovery time here. I just wanted to stop by and see how you are doing."  
  
He spends a few minutes examining me, changes the bandages on my arm, and once again telling me to keep the wound as clean and dry as possible.   
  
"I'll stop by again in a couple of days Justin. Brian I was at your bar this morning and checked on the men still there. Two of them should be able to leave today, so you'll just have that one boy recovering there for a few more days." With a nod to both of us he leaves.  
  
"Speaking of the bar I need to leave soon so I can get some work done there. Will you be okay alone for a little while?"  
  
"Yes. But I wish you didn't have to go."  
  
"I know me too, but I have to keep my business running. Things have been a little rough with so many of the men off fighting.  
  
He leans down and kisses me and the same fire from last night starts to consume me again. I wonder if that will ever change.   
  
Brian is a little more urgent this time, he leads me back into the bedroom, undresses me swiftly then gets rid of his own clothes. Standing close together naked we spend just a moment looking at each other and breathing in the same air.   
  
"Get on the bed, on your hands and knees Justin. Just put your left hand down, I'll help hold you up." His voice is thick and rough when he says it and a surge of blood rushes to my groin.  
  
I do as he asks, tingling with the excitement of the changes in him from last night. I can sense that this will not be as slow or as tender as last night was and I feel quite thrilled.  
  
He drapes himself over my body and I can feel his hard cock in the crack of my ass. Starting at the base of my neck he kisses his way down my spine until he reaches my ass. He only spends the bare minimum of time necessary to moisten my hole with his saliva. I'm a bit shocked when he uses his fingers to loosen me up instead of his tongue. It feels good but I am a bit disappointed that it isn't his tongue.   
  
We've only been on the bed a few minutes when he places his cock at my opening and starts to push forward. His hands are on my hips to help keep me still. It hurts but not quite as badly as it did the first time. He moves in slowly and steadily until he is resting flush against my ass and back. He is nibbling at the flesh that connects my neck and shoulders while he just keeps his cock still inside my ass allowing me to adjust.  
  
When I feel ready he must sense it somehow because he starts to withdraw. The rhythm builds much faster this time. He has my hips gripped firmly in his hands and uses that leverage to push me off his cock and pull me back onto him. Faster and faster. I can hear myself moaning and mumbling his name, but I'm not sure the words make any sense by the time they meet his ear.   
  
I can feel tingling at the base of my spine and in my sac. Brian reaches around me and starts to rub his hand up and down my cock until I explode. While I am spurting onto the bed I can feel Brian tense behind me, hold me flush against him and then start to shoot into me. The feeling of him, hot and smooth, makes me shoot even more until we both finally collapse in a heap.   
  
Eventually Brian pulls out of me, rolls over, and gets out of bed. I'm asleep a minute later and I never hear him when he leaves for the bar.  
  
I don't know how long I was asleep but when I get up Brian is still gone, but it is starting to get dark outside. I get bored very quickly so I attempt to draw. Simply trying to grip a pencil in my hand has pain shooting up and down my arm until I give up the idea altogether.   
  
I consider going into town to help Brian get work done but I know he would be mad at me, and in truth I probably would only get in the way in this condition.  
  
My next consideration is to visit my farm and see if Mother needs help. I told Brian I would try and forgive her so today is as good as any to start that. Only once again I realize I couldn't really help her out on the farm, and she would probably just be upset at seeing me injured again.  
  
With a frustrated sigh I stomp back to the bedroom and lay down. Apparently I am only well enough to sleep. Discouraged I fall into a fitful sleep.  
  
**Brian's POV**  
  
The entire time I'm at work I worry about Justin. I'm afraid he will try and do too much while I'm gone and make his injury worse. I don't like leaving him alone there but the bar really has been struggling. All the businesses in town are struggling really. I don't want him to know how badly things are though. He doesn't need to worry about anything more at this time.  
  
When I get home Justin hasn't lit any oil lamps so I'm not entirely surprised to find him asleep in bed. He doesn't look calm and peaceful like he did this morning though. He is actually frowning in his sleep and his body is curled up and tense. Deciding to save the eventual trouble later, I strip down and crawl onto the bed beside him naked.  
  
He wakes up almost instantly and just stares at me.  
  
"What's wrong Justin?"  
  
"I'm useless." He says it with a pout which I would really liked to have kissed off his mouth but I could tell that he was serious and wouldn't appreciate that.  
  
"What are you talking about? You're fighting in a war you don't agree with, you helped your father run the farm all the time, you keep me company and keep me sane. You are _not_ useless."  
  
"That was before Brian. Look at me know. I'm broken. Broken and useless is the best description for me. Just leave me alone."  
  
"No. No I won't just leave you alone. You arm is temporary. Doc said you should have more mobility by next week, and in a month you will probably be back to normal. And if you aren't you'll still have another two months of recovery time to make sure you are. I know you are frustrated, hurt, and scared, but you need to pull yourself together a bit."  
  
He tries to turn away from me but I won't let him. He struggles a bit but I use my larger size to hold him still, while still being careful not to hurt his arm. I press my mouth down onto his, it's a hard almost angry kiss, but I keep it there until he eventually softens a little under me.  
  
"Justin what do you want?"  
  
"I want to feel in control of something. Anything!" He still sounds frustrated.  
  
I look into his eyes for several minutes just soaking him in and trying to relax myself so I can do what I know I need to do for him. Finally I'm ready so I lean down and whisper into his ear, "you can be in control of me." As I pull away I can't help but smirk at the stunned look on his face. He obviously had not given this much thought.  
  
I kiss him quickly one more time before rolling away from him and settling down on my stomach, my head resting on my folded arms.  
  
He lies there motionless for a minute and then seems to be propelled into action.  
  
"Justin….just take it slow, okay?" He swallows hard and nods his head.  
  
It's obvious what a quick study he is, he is picking up the ways to please me so much quicker than I had hoped. Taking the opposite path I did early he starts kissing his way up the backs of my legs, from my ankle to my thighs and eventually my ass. First one leg , then onto the other. When he is done with that he settles in between my legs and starts licking the crack of my ass. He pulls apart my cheeks as far as he can and licks tentatively at my hole. A gasp escapes my lips when his tongue first hits that sensitive spot. I can tell he likes the taste and my reaction because he does it again.   
  
He spends several minutes tonguing my hole until it is drenched in spit and feeling quite loose. He leans over me placing his cock at my hole and I try not to tense up. He pushes into me slowly letting loose a groan that sounds almost like a growl and is only rivaled by the loud one I make. He keeps entering me with a slow steady pace until I am filled with his cock and couldn't take anymore if he had any more to give.  
  
He starts pulling out and pushing back in at a leisurely pace but that only lasts a few minutes. He pulls up on my hips a bit so my ass is higher in the air and he can thrust into me more quickly. I can feel him loosing control quickly so I reach underneath myself and begin pulling on my own cock in time with his forward thrusts.  
  
With a loud groan he starts shooting semen deep into my ass. The warm full feeling pushes me over the edge and I shoot in time with the last full tugs on my cock. He pulls out of me and drops down next to me on the bed. We both lie there on our stomachs, heads turned toward each other catching our breath.  
  
"Thank you Brian."


	10. Three Months - Love

  
Author's notes: Thanks so much to my beta KJ! Thanks also to MJD for the little push. I am very very sorry for the delay in the update – long story short … pain killers, visiting parents, flooding bathrooms, work sucking, and computer breaking. Thank you all for your patience – enjoy!  


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**Justin's POV** **  
**1 month gone** **

When I left town so long ago I never dreamed this is what I would have returned to.  My life here with Brian is a stark contrast to my life at war.  Brian is a very calm person most of the time.  I know he can get upset and when he does it tends to be fierce but he has taken my living here in stride.  I can't tell but it's possible he enjoys it more than I do.

Now that all the wounded men have vacated town Brian has his bar running like normal again.  After my first week here I learned that the town is suffering financially from having many of the men off at war; Brian's business included.  He spends his days at the bar running it primarily by himself since two of his employees left to join the Union army a few months ago.  While he is at work I read everything I can find in Brian's collection and draw for as long as my arm will allow me.

Each evening when Brian comes back we share a kiss so passionate I feel I will be swept away completely in the torrent of emotions.  Eventually we each calm down again and have dinner.  The nights are the best though.  Brian brings more pleasure to my body than I ever thought was possible, and he occasionally lets me return the favor.  Each night as I fall asleep next to him I can't help but wonder how I will ever readjust to life at war.

This first month of recovery I have spent avoiding thoughts of my family.  My mother came by once but I asked her to leave after only a few minutes and to wait for me to come to her next time.  So as I sit here I'm trying to decide how to mend the rifts between my parents and myself, while maintaining both my secrecy and integrity.  I'm quite certain now that I love Brian.  Love him the way that I am supposed to love a woman.  I know that no one, including my parents can ever know, but at the same time I won't pretend.

I've decided the first step is to confront my father, but since I can't see him I will have to do it through a letter.  So I've been sitting her for over an hour attempting to write and all that comes out are doodles of Brian's body parts.

When I finally start writing the anger just seems to pour out of me through the pen and onto the paper.

Father,

I am writing to you from Burkittsville.  I did what you wanted; I went off to fight your war.  As a result I've been injured and may never be the same again.  Not long after I went to war I realized a harsh truth.  You had to send me, because you are too much of a coward to have handled this.  The marches are long and arduous.  We will camp in one place for too long of a time, and then be rushed off to another place to fight.  More men die from disease than from battle.

If this is truly what you wanted for your only son, then I pity you and your inability to care for your family.

In two months time I will be going back to the war.  Again this will not be my choice but rather an extension of yours.

If we are ever in the same town again, I do not wish to speak to you or see you.

You killed the already fragile bond between us when you chose your cause and your greed over your family.

Goodbye,  
Justin

Shortly after I finish my letter to my father I hear Brian's footsteps coming up the porch steps.  I'm still amazed at the little butterflies I feel in my stomach just knowing he is about to walk in the door.  I'm feeling particularly needy tonight, having just finished an emotional bloodletting, so I barely let him get the door closed before attacking his mouth.  

We kiss feverishly for several minutes, using our hands to explore each others bodies until we are both so turned on the idea of stopping to eat dinner like normal is ridiculous.  Eventually Brian walks me backwards until the backs of my thighs hit the kitchen table.  He lifts me up and lays me down on that table and I briefly think about how later we'll have to eat on this table but that only seems to excite me more.  

Brian quickly pulls off my pants and underwear, then promptly removes his own as well.  He is too impatient to bother trying to take off our shirts – he just shoves mine up to expose my stomach and chest should he want to taste the skin found there.  

Dropping to his knees he quickly but efficiently opens me up with his tongue.  I'm used to him preparing me this way when our lovemaking is hurried, it helps to ease the initial pain, but it can be done quickly.  Before long he is back on his feet and pushing into me.  I wrap my legs around his back locking my ankles and grasp his biceps in my hands for leverage.  Brian wraps his hands under my shoulders and together we impale my body onto his hard shaft.

I love when he fucks me gently and sweetly, but I crave it hard and fast sometimes.  This is one of those times and he seems to be in the same frame of mind.  His hold on my shoulders keeps me from sliding too far away on the table and helps him pull me back towards him with every thrust forward he makes.  I'm so incredibly close to release that I'm just grunting incoherently, the feel of droplets of sweat dropping from his body onto my exposed torso sends me crashing over the edge.  When I go, I take him with me; like always.

**A Week Later**

I've finally mustered up the courage to visit my childhood home and my mother.  I was a little clingy with Brian this morning delaying his leaving for work, but he seemed to know that I needed the courage he could provide.

"Justin!"  I seriously consider turning and running at the overly cheerful tone of her voice, I know that tone is forced.

"Hi."  What can I say, hi is about all I can muster.

"How are you feeling honey?  How is your arm?  Do you need anything?  Are you ready to come home?"  
"Mom!  Slow down.  I'm fine.  My arm is getting better everyday but I still have some trouble with it.  I don't need anything and no I am not coming home."  I'm actually a little surprised when I feel guilty about the look of disappointment on her face.

"I understand Justin.  Do you want to come in and talk for a little while?"  I nod and we enter the house.  I notice that the house needs some work, some repairs, just like I could tell the farm land did.

"Mom is everything okay here?"

"Well, it's hard without you and your father here.  Also several of the slaves have run off.  We just don't have enough hands to get everything done."

"I'm sorry for you mom I really am.  But there isn't much I can do to help right now.  When Craig comes back though I'm sure things will get better for you."

"I'm not sure I want him to come back."

"What?"

"Justin you above anyone knows how cruel and harsh your father can be.  We may be struggling here but I am not missing the belittling or his coldness towards me.  I miss you.  I don't miss him."

I smile slightly so she knows I heard her and I appreciate the comment.  

"I need to leave now mom, I need to get back to Brian's and work on dinner."

"Justin, are you and Brian uh…. " does she know? "umm… well are you two getting along alright?"  I breathe a sigh of relief and assume that she is just asking out of her motherly concern.

"We're fine ma'.  I'll see you again before I leave town.  I promise."  I kiss her on the cheek and make my way out of the house.

Walking back towards the woods I run across Harold.  Unwillingly images flash quickly in my mind, torn flesh, blood tricking, running, anguish, betrayal, cowardice.    I close my eyes and will the images that haunt me away.  When I reopen my eyes Harold is staring at me like he would a stranger.

"Harold, are you….how….I mean….." sigh " how are you these days?"

"I'm fine Justin.  But then I didn't betray myself and my friends by fighting in a war I didn't believe in.  So I guess the real question is how you are?"  I swear he sneers a little while he says all this, and while he does say it my heart breaks a bit more.

"Harold please try to understand.  My mother gave me no choice.  It was do as my father wanted or leave home."

"It seems to me Justin that while you are taking your current break from doing what your father wanted you still aren't at home.  So just maybe you had more of a choice than you would like to believe.  More of a choice than say I do."  With that he turns and walks away.  I walk back to Brian's with my head hung in shame.

I'm surprised to see Brian at home when I get there.  He takes one look at my face and is across the room enveloping me in a tight hug in a moment.  I want to be strong.  I know he wants me to be strong, but I'm weak.  I'm weak and I cry with my face buried in his chest.

After a few minutes of quiet comfort he leads me into the bedroom and lays me down gently on the bed.  He strips me slowly, tenderly, achingly; taking the time to kiss each area of newly exposed flesh.  He worships my body gently and thoroughly bringing me to the brink of pleasure and over it twice before he allows himself the same release.

He curls up behind me, holding me close to him.  A whisper hits my ear, so soft I'm not sure I heard it correctly until he repeats himself, a little strong, a little bolder.  "I love you."

"I love you too Brian."


	11. Three Months - End

  
Author's notes: Thanks to my beloved KJ who not only beta’s for me – but has to put up with my endless text messages that threaten to kill my coworkers. A big thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing – I’m truly shocked and delighted with each review! Kisses!  


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**December 21, 1862 – Mid-Morning** **  
**Justin's POV****

Ever since the night Brian and I exchanged "I love you's" our sex life has moved onto a whole new level.  He is often tender and sweet, and even when he is rough he finds little ways to remind me physically that he loves me.  Right now for instance, I had gotten on my hands and knees but he told me to roll over, and is thrusting into me almost viciously but our eyes are locked and our fingers entwined.  These little reassurances, I've learned, make the difference between fucking and loving, the difference between angry thrusts and hungry ones.  The difference between what we share and what he has shared with others before me.

I've got my legs wrapped around his waist and I'm squeezing him so tightly with my thighs that they are beginning to ache.  That ache is added to the delicious burn in my ass as he thrusts into me with abandon.  He's been all over me this morning like he is afraid he'll never be with me again.  I can't really do much to reassure him beyond just laying here and readily accept his body driving into mine.  We both know I have to leave soon.

**Brian's POV**

I know that he will be sore tomorrow but I can't seem to hold myself back.  I'm trying to force my love into him physically so maybe when he is gone again he'll take a little bit of me with him.  The closer it gets to his time to leave, the more urgently I've been plunging my body and my feelings into him.  Today is the worst/best so far – because today he leaves.

After I've finally worn down the roar in my body to a whisper of desire, I collapse on top of him and pretty much refuse to move for a long time.  When I can finally speak again I say the words I've been trying not to say for so long, I can't help it they just come out in a moment of orgasm induced desperation and weakness.

"Don't go.  Just stay here.  Please."

"Brian."

"No listen to me.  You never wanted to be on that side of the war, your father has no power over you anymore, your mother regrets sending you away, and the army is too busy to try and track you.  Stay.  Stay here with me please."

"Brian, its not that I don't want to.  I do, you know I do.  But how would we explain me staying here?  And beyond that – I made a commitment and you once told me that men follow through on their promises."

"Justin, don't listen to me!  I didn't know what I was talking about."

"Yes you did Brian.  Look I know other men who deserted and they are disgraced amongst the ranks. I've heard the older soldiers talk of these men; they say that they do not understand the gravity of their offense.  Brian men from our town are still fighting in this war, if I leave before completing my obligation I will be shamed here in town."

  
"Justin I don't care what people think!  If I cared what people thought I'd have just finished fucking a woman!"

He looks like I've slapped him, and I guess in a way I did.  I'm just so angry at the world right now, so frustrated with him, with the situation, with his unwillingness to get himself out of the situation.  I can't protect him while he is away, he's already been hurt once, what if something worse happens after he goes back?  Reports say more men are dying from disease than from actual battle; how can I fight that from here?

**Justin's POV**

I'm staring at Brian like he is a completely different person.  He is.  The man I am looking at right now is a wild man.  His hair is still sticking up at all angles from my pulling on it, his eyes are open wide and darting around like he expects a dangerous beast to leap out and attack us at any moment.  

He is off the bed a moment later, still completely naked, and pacing.  He is mumbling to himself angrily and flailing his arms slightly.  I watch in horror as he suddenly stills, lowers his head, squeezes the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his right hand, and then just as suddenly as he stilled he is moving again; violently this time.  He is throwing just about everything he can get his hands on across the room; he is breaking his own home apart. 

"Brian."  I try weakly to get his attention but I'm not even sure if he still knows I am here.  

For the first time ever I'm afraid of him, so I decide to leave early.  I'm glad he talked me into packing up my bag last night.  I dress quickly and quietly while he starts searching through the cabinets.  I grab my stuff and slip quietly out the door, looking back just once, just in time to see him put a whisky bottle to his mouth and take a long drink.  I'm gone before he even swallows.

**Brian's POV**

I'm vaguely aware of a cut in my hand from something I just smashed.  I'm somewhat aware that Justin just left.  I'm hyper aware that my heart is broken.  

I don't want to feel anymore.  Nothing besides the burn in my throat as the whiskey flows down it.  

**December 22, 1862 – Early morning**

I'm not sure how long I drank last night before I passed out.  I don't remember much after that look of shock and hurt on Justin's face.  I know he left during my rampage.  It took me a few minutes to remember what had gone on that morning when I awoke from my drunken haze later yesterday evening. I woke up and searched for him.  When it all came rushing back to me I picked up the empty whiskey bottle and chucked it across the room, just to complete the mess I had made out of my life.

So this morning I'm laying on the bed surveying the damage I did yesterday and I suddenly realize I need to explain myself to Justin; to beg his forgiveness for my behavior; but I can't.  He's gone.  The weight of reality sits on me like a boulder as I put pen to paper in the only form of communication I have available.

**December 31, 1862** **  
**Justin's POV****

The men around me are trying to make the best of this holiday.  I personally have no interest in the revelry or the drinking.  The only thing that interests me is the still unopened letter in my hand.  I know it is from Brian, I recognize his handwriting on the outside.  I'm embarrassed to confess my heart fluttered a little just seeing my name written in his script.

 

I tuck the letter away, putting it in my breast pocket; this one has to stay close to my heart. I feel relieved now that I know I did not do something wrong, something that would make him act in such a way, but somehow I also feel even more desolate and alone. Turning over in my bed roll I try and find comfort in the cold hard ground and attempt sleep.

 


	12. Discovery

  
Author's notes:

Without the fantabulous KJ – y’all could have ended up reading something like this - “And Justin missed Brian... and Brian missed Justin.... and then... uh... some stuff happened to Justin, and it sucked, and he was sad and wished that he could just see his Brian again, but on the other end of the world, uh, Brian was sad too. And that was just....uh...sad.” Thanks for helping jumpstart my muse KJ! 

Also please be aware the time moves pretty quickly through this chapter, I do apologize if you feel you are getting shortchanged – but the faster we get through the yucky war stuff the faster we can get to the yucky love stuff.

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**January 1, 1863** **  
**Justin's POV****

When I wake in the morning I'm incredibly uncomfortable, the new sleeping arrangements here in the camps have made war somehow worse than it was before.  I roll over slightly and hear the crinkling noise of Brian's letter still close to my heart; and somehow the day seems to have gotten better already.

After whatever is going to happen today happens, I'll sit down to write a response to him.

A day long march, with one skirmish in the middle, and I find myself finally able to sit down and write to Brian.

Dear Brian,

I received your letter yesterday as the men around the campfire were drunkenly enjoying the New Year; I was sitting glumly missing you.  The letter now resides next to my heart where it can keep the organ warm.  I wish I could say more now, but I promise to tell you the extent of my feelings about your words when I return.

I'm getting weary of this war always happening because of chance.  We just seem to stumble into the union troops and then start fighting.  Planned battles are rare it seems.  Usually we know there must be trouble ahead, but not always how imminent it might be.  I miss the routine that we had going, it felt comfortable, it felt familiar, and it felt right; this feels wrong.

I have returned now to a different war.  The comforts we so foolishly clung to and carried around with us before are gone now.  They are gone and in their place is expediency and efficiency.  One such efficiency is that we now share a bed roll with another soldier.  Each of us carries one blanket and one oilcloth.  We then make a sandwich with the oilcloths on the bottom next to the ground and on the top to shield us from the rain and snow.  Oh how I wish it were you that I lay next to each night.  

When we first began this war we did not believe this war would last long.  We could not conceive of how much ground we would travel.  Rations have become quite short it seems.  Men are dying from starvation and from the diseases that poor diet allows.  Most men have stopped carrying changes of clothes with them to ease their knapsack load during marches.  Changes of undergarments are rare.   Whenever you should think upon it if you could send some clothes I would appreciate it.  We discard the old used up ones when new parcels arrive. 

I now regret not considering more seriously the idea of not returning.

I hope to see you again soon,  
Justin   
Army of the Shenandoah  
2nd Regiment

  
**March 16th, 1863**

It's been a long couple of months back in the army.  I've tried hard to keep my spirits up, but most days I fail miserably.  I read the well worn letter that Brian sent me on New Year's as often as I can get away with.  His letters are really the only thing I look forward too, so I was upset about his most recent letter.  Oddly it wasn't so much the content as it was that he had to be the bearer of such news.  I can't really say bad news; because I'm not sure I feel it is bad.  I feel indifferent; I just wish it didn't make me apprehensive of his next letter.

_Letter received early that day……_

 My dear Justin,

I am sorry to be the one to have to tell you this.  Your father is dead.  He died in prison, he had fallen ill and the damp nature of his stone room did not aid in any recovery.

Your mother wanted to write to you telling you this, but I am hoping that if it comes from me it will soften the blow of the news.

You are missed.  
Keep yourself well.  
Brian

I honestly don't know how I feel about Craig's death.  I wrote him off with that letter I wrote to him.  So why should this affect me?  I mostly feel for my mother, now that he is gone for good, and I'm gone she has no one.  I hope she can manage on her own until this war is over.  I'll send her a letter later.  Right now I don't have time to grieve or worry, I have to get ready to continue today's march.  I grab my gear and join the ranks, forgetting all about the man I once called my father.

**April 4th, 1863**

I've found myself in some deep trouble here in camp.  I got careless.  A corporal named Mark found the letter of Brian's I kept with me.  His reaction is not one I ever considered.  My fear, as well as Brian's, was that I would get hurt if anyone ever discovered the truth.  I also briefly considered the improbably possibility of another man wanting me the same way Brian does.  But this, this I never expected.

It all started about three days ago when I realized my letter was missing.  I was in a panic but unfortunately finding it didn't help, it only made it worse.  Mark didn't take long to approach me.  The disgust was clearly shown on his face even while he was faking niceties.

_Three days ago_

"Taylor!"

I turned around to see who was calling my name and my stomach churned at the sight of Mark.  He is a corporal in our regiment and he has always given me a bad feeling.

"Yes sir?"  I said with all the politeness that my upbringing could help me muster.

"Let's get right to the point.  I found your letter."

Oh god no.  Suddenly I was more afraid of dying in camp than in battle.  I guessed that I had a couple of options as my response.  I could've pretended that I didn't know what he was talking about, but that would mean denying who I am and I just couldn't do that.  So I guess that just leaves me being honest and dealing with what comes next.

"Well I'd like that letter back please."

"Oh no, I don't think that will be possible.  You see I read the letter.  And I think it is part of my job to keep tabs on the sick soldiers.  You are the sickest I have seen yet."  He said it with a sneer while his eyes slowly roved up and down my body.  The look he gave me made my hair stand on end.

"You don't know what you are talking about.  And even if you did it wouldn't make any difference."

"I think it does make a difference, boy, if you want to stay alive you'll do what I say from now on."

"What does that mean?  What do you want?"  I hate the slight quiver I hear in my voice.

"You'll let me do what I want whenever I want.  You are small, with delicate skin and soft blonde hair, you are practically a woman.  Men have desires, but so many of the men who have been with the service women in various towns are now sick or dead with disease.  I should not have that problem with you."

"Listen Mark, I…" 

"Excuse me Corporal can I see you a minute?"  Oh thank god someone came by and interrupted our conversation, as I have no idea how I would have gotten out of it.

"I'll see you again soon Private Taylor."

_Back to present time_

It was after that when things really started to get bad.  I've had to be creative to avoid Mark.  Instead of going off on my own during the evenings I stay around the campfire for as long as possible.  I've made a show of making new friends and trying to be around them as much as possible, so he never has the opportunity to approach me.  I'm using his disgust for mine and Brian's lifestyle against him.  He could never allow anyone to know what he wants.  He keeps harassing me.  If he wanted to hurt me I could understand that.  But he doesn't.  He wants to use me, or rather use my body. 

I'm not sure what to do.  I don't know how much longer I'll be able to avoid him.  I've also got to tell Brian.  I know he'll go out of his mind, but he deserves to know.

  

 Brian,

I have some disturbing news.  The letter you wrote to me just after I left home was discovered by a man here at camp.  He has responded in a way that you and I had not considered in our discussions about this.  He wants me to let him use my body as a replacement for his wife.  I've been able to avoid him so far, having to share my bedroll with another man helps.  However, Mark is an officer and given some time he can probably arrange for me to become available to him.

I'm going to think of something.  I promise you Brian he will not touch me.

Love,  
Justin  
Army of the Shenandoah  
2nd Regiment

**April 11th, 1863** **  
**  

  
 Dear Brian, 

Our Mark problem has been solved.  I don't have much time to write now.  Just know that I have been transferred to another army in the confederate forces.  I will be part of General Lee's Army of Northern Virginia.  
   
Avoiding Mark has become slightly easier, I've made a couple of friends that I find a way to be around constantly. The only sad thing about my solution to the Mark problem is that I will once again have to lose friends.

 Justin  
 Army of the Shenandoah

**April 22, 1863**

 Dear Brian,

I'm leaving today to travel north a little ways now to be assigned to a new regiment.  I can't tell you how incredibly relieved I am to be leaving my current regiment.  Mark was persistent in his pursuit of me.  

To be honest he's gotten close a couple times to getting what he wanted.  I want to assure you he would not have gotten what he wanted.  I would have fought him to the death if necessary.  An opportunity when my training in combat would have really come in handy.  Like I said he got close a couple of times, but never quite close enough.

I'll be with my new regiment soon, and I'll write to you once I get there.

Justin  
Army of the Shenandoah

**May 6, 1863**

  

Dear Brian,

I've finally gotten settled in with my new unit.  I'm sorry I didn't write sooner.  Not long after I got assigned here we were marching north in part of Lee's plan to take this war north, and ended up in a three long day battle in Chancellorsville.  The war seems to get harder each day.  More and more I'm losing friends in battle.  This time I hadn't even had the chance to make any friends.

Brian I'm not sure how much more I can take of this.  Everyday I feel a little bit more of myself slipping away.  I managed to get away from Mark relatively unscathed, but I'm still fighting for things I never believed in.

Please keep me in your thoughts, it's the only way I get through; know you are waiting for me to return.

Justin,  
Army of Northern Virginia  
Lt. Gen. A.P. Hill's Third Army Corps  
Mahone's Brigade

**June 15, 1863**

Dear Brian,

Life in Hill's Corps is not nearly the same as it was in Jackson's.  A.P. Hill, who is called by many Red, often is in disagreement with Lieutenant General Longstreet.  There is increasing dissatisfaction amongst the ranks.  

On Lee's orders we are making our way into Pennsylvania.  Skirmishes are happening almost everyday now.

I miss you terribly Brian.  I'm not sure how much longer I can be here.

Justin  
Army of Northern Virginia  
Lt. Gen. A.P. Hill's Third Army Corps  
Mahone's Brigade

**June 30, 1863**

Dear Brian,

We've been given the go ahead orders into a town called Gettysburg.  Brigadier General Buford's division is occupying the town and we are making ready to go drive Buford away and occupy this town ourselves.

Once again I feel so close to you in distance and yet so far away.  I've been seriously reconsidering the idea of desertion you brought up when I was home.  

I will go fight in this next battle, and then make my decision.  I must stop writing now and give this to the post boy; we are ready to make our way into Gettysburg.

Justin  
Army of Northern Virginia  
Lt. Gen. A.P. Hill's Third Army Corps  
Mahone's Brigade


	13. Unplanned

  
Author's notes:

This chapter was unplanned. It is in response to an email review I received from Helen wondering what the heck was going on with Brian during the last chapter. So Helen – your wish is my command. Thanks for reviewing! I do apologize for this chapters incredibly short length and incredibly long wait. I’ll try and beef up the next couple for y’all. Thanks so much to my beta KJ who had to provide the most help so far on this chapter because it just wasn’t there for me. Whatever is in italics is excerpts from the last chapter to help refresh your memories.

* * *

**January 1, 1863** **  
**Brian's POV****

When I wake in the morning I'm incredibly uncomfortable without Justin here to help keep my bed warm.  I roll over slightly and hear the crinkling noise of Justin's letters; last night I needed to feel close to him and reading the letters he had sent me before he got hurt seemed the best way to achieve that feeling. 

I've been worrying and wondering if Justin has received my apology letter yet.  It pains me knowing that his last memory of me is still the reprehensible way I acted the night he left.  I hope the letter finds him soon, and finds him well.

_Dear Brian,_

_I received your letter yesterday as the men around the campfire were drunkenly enjoying the New Year; I was sitting glumly missing you.  The letter now resides next to my heart where it can keep the organ warm.  I wish I could say more now, but I promise to tell you the extent of my feelings about your words when I return._

**January 12, 1963**

I received Justin's letter today and it's amazing how one small piece of paper can lift a great weight from my shoulders.

While his letter lessens my distress over the night he left, it does nothing to ease the distress about the fact that he did leave.  This war is dragging on much longer than anyone would have ever thought, men die more from disease than from battle, but battle alone is scary enough.  The fact that Justin would not have sex with women while at war probably works to his advantage, it keeps him safe from some of the diseases that are most prevalent at this time.

I immediately start putting together a little bundle to send to him tomorrow. I wrap up a small bar of soap, a new change of clothes, and a little note from me.  I can't help but send him written forms of my affection from time to time, but I do try and keep them to a minimum.

**March 3rd, 1863**

I'm a little startled while eating dinner from a knock on my door.  Visitors were fairly regular while Justin stayed here, the doctor and his mother being the most frequent guests, but since he's been gone no one has come by unexpectedly.

I'm shocked to find Jennifer Taylor on my doorstep trembling with tears rolling freely down her face.  My heart plummets and shatters in that instant.  I just know it.  She's here to tell me the worst.  How do I keep myself from reacting too strongly? I never even thought about how to hide my feelings if something horrible were to happen to him.  Oh god, I don't think that I can.

In between sobs she manages to hug me tight to her and says weakly, "He's dead."  Oh god I know I can't keep my feeling inside.  

He's dead.  How can he be dead?  Everything was so perfect just a short time ago.  Dead.  I don't think it has sunk in yet.  Will it ever sink into my head that my lover will never come back to me?  I can feel my breathing becoming shallow as my body tries to process what my brain cannot.  Dead.  Right now I think I want to join him.  Oh god, join him, I'll never be joined with him again in any sense of that word.  I feel dizzy.  Can you stop breathing, pass out, and throw up all at the same time?  How do I explain this reaction to his mother?  She would never understand why a friend would react so strongly.  At the moment I don't care what she thinks anymore.  He's dead.  Nothing else matters.  Nothing else ever will again.

I step back from her and she looks slightly startled but her eyes grow incredibly wide as I gasp, and fall to the grown, wracking sobs taking over my body. 

The realization only takes her a minute, but it's the longest minute of my life.

"No.  Brian, look at me.  No.  Oh I'm so sorry.  Not Justin!  To my knowledge Justin is fine."

What?  

"What?  What do you mean he is fine?!?  Well then who is dead!?!"  I think I just screamed at a crying woman but I don't care. 

"Craig."  Oh thank god.  Oh wait, that's probably not good for her, and not all that good for Justin either.  Justin.  Justin's alive.  He'll be hurting with this knowledge probably, but he'll still be alive.

I stand back up and invite her into my home, after all now that I know it isn't Justin I can at least be a good neighbor.

She stays for about an hour.  Its obvious to me that while her husband was in jail her love for him faded some.  She seems more concerned about what she will do now without a husband, and how Justin will handle this news.  We come to the conclusion that I should probably write to him to tell him his father died because the relationship between Jennifer and Justin is pretty strained right now.

_  
_Brian,__

_I have some disturbing news.  The letter you wrote to me just after I left home was discovered by a man here at camp.  He has responded in a way that you and I had not considered in our discussions about this.  He wants me to let him use my body as a replacement for his wife.  I've been able to avoid him so far, having to share my bedroll with another man helps.  However, Mark is an officer and given some time he can probably arrange for me to become available to him._

_I'm going to think of something.  I promise you Brian he will not touch me._ __

_Love,_ _  
_Justin__

**April 12th, 1863**

Mark?  Who the fuck is this mark?  When I first read Justin's letter the first thing that jumped out at me was another man's name.  Now though I'm terrified.  Justin is right, whenever we talked about our, whatever it is, we've always talked about the need for secrecy but never for this reason.

I know I find Justin irresistible so I should have guessed that someone else might also.  But someone with a wife?  I don't understand why this Mark would not just use one of the whores that are in so many of the towns.  Why use Justin? 

I think being so far away; not knowing if this Mark has been able to get what he wanted or not, is going to drive me insane.  Another man could be inside of him right now and while I don't want to think about it, it's all I can think about.

I put together another care package for Justin with thoughts of this Mark running through my mind, and I can't help but strongly consider putting a small knife amongst the items.  If I can't protect him I want him to be able to protect himself.

_Our Mark problem has been solved.  I don't have much time to write now.  Just know that I have been transferred to another army in the confederate forces.  I will be part of General Lee's Army of Northern Virginia._

**April 21st, 1863**

I have mixed feelings over Justin's reassignment.  I'm overjoyed that he will be able to get away from Mark but I worry that he will be assigned to a regiment that is in harm's way more often.  He has been quite lucky so far, from the beginning he was able to get signed up with a regiment that spent quite a bit of time on training.  When all other comforts are gone, I take comfort in the knowledge that they didn't send him into battle unprepared.  I have heard stories of some of the newer recruits being sent into battle almost immediately.  Justin was not born for war, he was trained for it, and for that I am grateful.

**July 1st, 1863** **  
**4am****

I can't believe that he is once again close by.  The parts of Virginia and Pennsylvania that he has mentioned are only a couple of days carriage ride.

Tonight I woke from a fretful dream, I think having him so close makes these dreams that have occasionally plagued me worse.  Ever since that moment of grief and fear a few months ago when I thought he was dead, I've had the worst dreams.  Dreams filled with hot lead flying, blood pouring, and Justin's life draining away.  Usually the dreams feel so surreal I can convince myself that it's just my overactive imagination.  For some reason this dream however, feels all too real.


	14. Gettysburg

  
Author's notes: Thanks to the diaries of Private Henry Keiser, Lieutenant Charles Potts, and Captain Samuel Russell. Their letters and diaries were used as inspiration for this chapter. Thanks to my beta’licious beta KJ. I tried not to get too heavy into battle details or history, but it is a historical fic – so just live with it! WARNING – I HAVE INCLUDED SOME GRAPHIC PHOTOS.   


* * *

  


****July 4th, 1863** **

All is quiet along the line this morning… 

****Three Days Earlier** **

****July 1st, 1863** **

At 8:30 this morning we crossed the line into Pennsylvania, and at 10 A.M. we passed through Littlestown.  We marched to Gettysburg without a halt and directly into the fight.  As we passed a field it was obvious that part of the battle had raged on there, there were bodies strewn all over the field.  Seeing this increased the ominous tone that the day had begun to take on.  

Parts of four regiments in entrenchments held us in check for about half an hour. Then we managed to force those regiments to retreat into the town. We were able to swing around the town and capture about 5000 officers and men.  
Tonight we are hunkered down at the bottom of the hill called Little Round Top.  The mood is ominous; while we have the union troops outnumbered we still seem to be struggling.  My thoughts lie more heavily with Brian these days than normal.  I can't help think of my possible death or capture.  It is not me that I am concerned with, it is Brian.  I do not know if he would survive it.  He does not let people get close, and it took me forever to get through to him, and then even longer for us to find a new kind of happiness together.  Without that, without the hope of that, I do not think he would survive.  Perhaps I am simply increasing my own importance in my head, but perhaps I am right.  And if I am right, then don't I owe it to him to get through this war?  I think I do.  


****July 2nd, 1863** **

We can hear heavy cannonading ahead all day. At five o'clock this evening we arrived at what is called Little Round Top, a short distance from Gettysburg. We heard very heavy firing to our left at 5 o'clock. And then we marched from to Gettysburg without a halt and directly into the fight.

At six this evening we filed left, marched some distance, where we formed a line of battle on a knoll and in some underbrush. The union troops gave way and we drove them off a bit, but then the Pennsylvania reserves came up sharp and drove us back losing the ground we had just gained.  We halted in a hollow behind a stone fence, having marched, since last evening, thirty two miles. 

At the time we formed a battle line, I threw my knapsack, being too tired to carry it into a charge, but after advancing a short distance the regiment was halted and the men unslung their knapsacks and had guards placed over them. 

****July 3, 1863**** ****  
Brian's POV  
We have received word that there is a large battle occurring in the town of Gettysburg.  Information is scarce but I have reason to believe that Justin's regiment will be in Gettysburg.    
I also received this letter from Justin today, it is dated June 30th.    
 

Dear Brian,

We've been given the go ahead orders into a town called Gettysburg. 

Brigadier General Buford's division is occupying the town and we are making ready to go drive Buford away and occupy this town ourselves.

Once again I feel so close to you in distance and yet so far away.  I've been seriously reconsidering the idea of desertion you brought up when I was home.  

I will go fight in this next battle, and then make my decision.  I must stop writing now and give this to the post boy; we are ready to make our way into Gettysburg.

Justin  
Army of Northern Virginia  
Lt. Gen. A.P. Hill's Third Army Corps  
Mahone's Brigade

His tone and his despair are concerning me.  He's talking about making decisions, and I'm concerned for him.  If he is considering what I think he is it will most likely spell trouble for him for the remainder of his life.  Deserters are not looked upon kindly.  I will love him regardless, but the town will shun him.  I am off to Jennifer's now.  She needs to know he is on his way to Gettysburg.  

  
Justin's POV  
Last evening we were driven back from Little Round Top and listened to the enemy cheer justly.  We cut it short by giving them a dose of artillery which made the boys take to their holes in the rocks quickly.

The field is covered with dead and wounded. There must be fearful fighting on the right judging from the very heavy firing, sometimes coming down the line pretty near to us. We were shelled occasionally during the day, but none of our company was hurt. 

At some point this afternoon, the enemy charged us and drove us back a mile.  We are not used to being driven back or given such a challenge as we are here in Gettysburg.  My present condition consists of no rations, no clothes, but what is on my back, and an old half of a blanket.  Most of our army seems to be retreating as fast as possible, through drenching rain. A long train of wagons, containing wounded rebels, household furniture, in fact anything everything that they could carry off, chairs, bed quilts, covers, lids, mowing machines, scythes and their horses decorated with sleigh bells are leaving this battlefield.  It is a unique end to a battle, and feels like a shift in the entire war.  
Our line was broken and three regiments were captured. The men are in desperate spirits.  The portion of the field we occupy is strewn with mostly with our dead.  The smell of the dead is awful.  We have not the time to bury them.  


****July 4th, 1863** **

All is quiet along the line this morning, but I'm too far gone to know what that means for me or for the war.

 


	15. MIA

  
Author's notes: Much love to my beta KJ – who basically said she wouldn’t talk to me again until I sent her another  
chapter. And thanks to Shawna for the most recent push. I do sincerely apologize – computer issues were just the icing on the crapola cake. So here it is.  


* * *

**July 25th, 1863** **  
**Brian's POV****

Three weeks.  It's been three long excruciating weeks.  We received word on the 5th that the battle in Gettysburg had ended the previous day.  

Fifteen days after that we got the news; Justin Taylor – Missing In Action.  My world stopped that day, and it hasn't restarted since.  The world hasn't moved forward for 14 days.  Jennifer stopped by to tell me as soon as she got word and once again I had to cover up the true depth of my feelings.  She stayed for awhile seeking comfort from me; a task for which I am woefully unqualified.  I know nothing about crying women or how to handle them.  I felt relieved at first when she left, but then there was nothing left for me to feel other than the devastation of the news we received.

That was fourteen days ago.  Those fourteen days have gone by in a blur.  It's funny how time moves differently now that the world has stopped.  I go into town to work everyday and sit in the back in my office drinking more whiskey than the customers do.  After the bar closes I usually stumble back to the house, although sometimes I just sleep in my office, and others I end up passing out along in my own front yard.  I just don't care where I sleep these days.  If Justin isn't at home in my bed why should I bother being there?

Tonight I left work early and I've actually managed to make it home and remember the journey.  I'm looking for another bottle of whiskey to help alleviate that problem when there is a knock on the door.  I'm only mildly surprised to see Justin's mother when I open the door.  She seems to stop by every couple of days like clockwork.  I just turn and walk away leaving the door open for her. 

"I'll just let myself in I suppose.  Brian you really need to work on your manners, and oh god" she sniffs in the air like a hunting hound "this place reeks!"

With a chuckle I tell her, "Yeah, well I couldn't find the mop one day and never bothered to look for it again."

"That isn't funny young man; you need to pull yourself, your business, and this place together."  I find it funny how she seems to need to mother someone and since Justin isn't here she ends up mothering me.  

"Look, Jennifer, thanks for stopping by but I desperately need to find what I was looking for before you came in…"

"What, another one of these?"  She asks holding up an empty bottle of whiskey that was lying on the floor.

"As a matter of fact, yes so now if you don't mind."  I need to get her out of here soon; I can feel that blissful oblivion of drunkenness getting further and further from my grasp.  I need that oblivion, I need that release.  

"I do mind Brian.  And so would Justin.  He wouldn't want you destroying yourself like this.  I know my son means a lot to you," _oh shit, what does she know_ "but I also know that he wouldn't want you acting like this no matter what's happened to him."

I know she's right, of course I know she is but I'm just not sure how to pull myself together.  I've been drinking so I don't have to think about him, I wonder if I took the opposite approach if it would make a difference.  So I decide to do just that, to think about him and see where it leads.

"You're right Jennifer, I'm sorry.  Will you stay for a little while and talk to me?"  Jennifer is the only other person who knows what I'm feeling even if she can't know why.  I suppose we just have to lean on each other now.   She stays for about an hour reminiscing about Justin's childhood days, and I tell her a few stories from the early days of our friendship.  She finally has to leave because a storm is brewing outside and she needs to make it through the woods to her place before it starts to rain.

After she's gone I sit for a few minutes staring at the whiskey bottle I finally found.  I have a decision to make I suppose.  If he is dead, or is never found then I need to know how I will live the rest of my life.  I can lose myself forever into the bottle in front of me, or I can live my life with Justin – even if he isn't alive to live it.  With my decision made I put the whiskey bottle back into the cabinet and go down to my bedroom to lie down.

Lying down on the bed I start to think about when Justin lived here after he was hurt.  I think about the first time he let me enter his body and how hot and tight he was.  I slip my trousers over my hips and under my buttocks so they rest around my thighs.  Grasping my semi-hard penis I begin to rub it to full erection while thinking of the first time with Justin.

Remembering how he told me what he wanted that night I run my thumb over the tip of my penis spreading the moisture that has gathered there around the entire head.

_"Brian you wrote to me of having had physical pleasures with other men.  I have not, but I want to.  I want you.  I don't know what to do; if you are willing I would like you to guide me.  I want you to touch me Brian."_

_Stiffening my tongue I probe into Justin's ass for the first time.  He tenses but I leave the tip of my tongue just inside his entrance until it stops protesting my intrusion and lets me in a little more.  Justin is gasping and moaning and I think he tried to say my name but it came out jumbled and incoherent.  I pull out and let a mouthful of saliva drop onto his opening, then push it into him slowly to help ease the way.  I work at his opening for several minutes.  Pushing in a little further each time, making sure to push as much saliva in as I can and making his hole as slick as possible.  I pull away and tell him to roll over.  When he does I see a look of disappointment on his face and I can't help but smile.  With a small kiss I tell him not to worry that I am not done yet._

I gasp at the memory of tasting my lover for the first time and pull harder and faster on my cock.  

_I lift his legs up onto my shoulders and settle in between his thighs.  I spit on my hand, rub it up and down my cock mixing it with the moisture that was already there.  One hand on his knee, the other holding my cock steady I slowly push into him.  Just the head gets through that first tight ring of muscle; he gasps loudly and tenses up.  I tell him to keep his legs up on my shoulders, freeing up my hands to rub his stomach soothingly._

I clench my penis harder to simulate the tightness of Justin's ass that first time and feel my release impending.

_I feel Justin relax under me as I kiss him so I push a little further in.  With each new thrust forward I pause, wait till he relaxes, kiss him, and then push again.  Finally my entire cock is inside him and I have to sit still for a moment to take pleasure in his warm tight channel just hugging my cock.  The walls of his anus are slowly caressing the sensitive nerve endings of my cock with every breath he takes._

_With one final kiss I feel Justin is relaxed enough, so I start to move.  I pull out until just the head is inside him, and then slowly push back in.  Again and again.  Over and over. I keep withdrawing almost entirely and then pushing back in until I can sense the slow rhythm is driving us both insane so I speed up.  As my speed increases I pull out less and less.  Justin gasps every time my cock runs across his prostate.  Finally I'm just jabbing into him as fast as I can, hitting that sensitive spot deep within him consistently, and then we are both shooting.  Justin shoots all over my torso and I fill his ass with my semen._

_I collapse on top of him with my cock still buried deep and the feeling of my semen slowly leaking past my cock and out of his ass._ __

My orgasm overtakes me as my memories flood my brain, and cause a few tears to trickle out of my eyes.  I wipe the tears away with the knowledge that there is a chance that this is as close to Justin as I will ever get.

Hearing a knock on the door, I roll my eyes and tuck myself back into my trousers.  Walking to the door I prepare myself for another long discussion with Jennifer.  I'm assuming that she didn't beat the rain and may end up spending quite some time here tonight, so with a lot less trepidation than previously I open the door to let her in.


	16. Defected

  
Author's notes: KJ (my beta) bugged me so much for updates recently that I killed her off in my dreams and had to post this without her help. Luckily that didn’t happen in real life – yet.  


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****Brian's POV** **

I open the door to let her in, but it isn't Jennifer. It's Justin, alive and standing in front of me, wet but alive.

There are no words to explain the relief that floods through me, and I can tell by looking in his eyes he feels the same. I see that he is relieved to be here, and just as relieved to be seeing me as I am at seeing him.  We just stand there and stare at each other reveling in the sight of one another for what seems like an eternity, until finally without a word spoken he is across the threshold and in my arms.  Later I couldn't tell you if I pulled him to me, or if he leaped into my arms, but as long as he is there I'm not going to question how it happened.

My lips find his and the taste that is undeniably Justin is only watered down slightly from the rain drops still dripping down his face and into our mouths.  I'd like to take this moment slowly but the hunger for him takes over and there is no slowing down.  I try to get him out of his clothes quickly but they are so wet they are sticking to him, so I just lay him out on the floor with his shirt bunched up around his chest and his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs.

Standing back I quickly remove my pants and then join him down on the floor.  I fold him in half, drap myself over him, and kiss him harshly while struggling around the wet and bunched up clothes.  I slather my fingers in my saliva and work a them into his ass.  I keep trying to tell myself to slow down but the approving grunts and moans coming from the man beneath me just spur me on faster.  After just a few moments of preparation I slowly push the head of my cock into his opening and wait for a sign he is ready for more.  With a moan Justin counterthrusts towards me and I end up buried to the hilt inside him.  We take just a few minutes to look at each other but I capture his lips with my own again and begin moving inside him.  Time keeps slowing down, then speeds up again, and my thrusts match it.  All too soon I feel that warm flooding sensation all throughout my body as Justin and I orgasm together.

**Justin's POV**

The last few weeks have been hell; the only thing that kept me going was the thought of being back here with Brian.  I had originally envisioned some dramatic scene with flowery words and soft slow kisses; but this was much better.  Feeling Brian enter me once again was exactly what I needed to remember that I am alive; I made it.

After our breathing has finally calmed down Brian helps me to my feet and leads me to his bedroom.  More slowly this time he helps get me out of my wet clothing as I help free him from his.  We climb into his bed and I lay my head on his chest.

"Welcome home," he says as he kisses the top of my head and we both drift off to sleep.

Waking up this morning was the most wonderful thing I think I have ever experienced, just knowing that I was finally safe and finally back with Brian,  a delicious peace settled into the core of my soul.  

"Morning," comes from a groggy Brian.

I can't help but smile that three words have been spoken between us since I knocked on the door last night, and he has spoken all three of them, until now.

"Good morning.  I love you.  I missed you so much and I'm so glad to be back."

"I love you too, missed you absolutely, and I'm really glad you're home too."  He says with the tiniest grin.  "We need to talk though."

"I know Brian."

"How about we eat some food and you tell me where you've been the last three weeks."  So we get up and head into the kitchen to make some breakfast.  We settle down at the table to eat and I start to tell my story.

"I couldn't take it anymore Brian.  I couldn't keep fighting, risking my life, risking my life with you all for a cause I never believed in to begin with.  The battle a few weeks ago at Gettysburg was horrible.  There were so many dead and wounded that the air was filled with a nauseating stench.  I was regretting going back after I was injured from the moment I walked out this door, so after watching half my unit die in front of me, I walked away."

"You defected.  I'm so glad you did, having you out of danger is such a relief, but how did you get here?"

"I walked.  I had to hide out during the day because there are still troops from both sides scattered all around the Pennsylvania and Maryland country sides.  If I had been discovered, well you know what would have happened."

"If you had been it probably would have been better if Union troops found you.  A prisoner of war is treated better than a defector is by his own troops."

"I know.  I usually dug a shallow ditch to lie in and covered myself with leaves or twigs as much as I could when I slept during the day.  I spent the nights scavenging for anything to eat and trying to find my way here.  I got turned around a few times but eventually the names of the towns started looking familiar, then the landscape, until finally the woods that border your yard; and home."

"So, now what?"

"I was hoping you would let me hide out here until it's safe for me to return home."

 

**Brian's POV**

He's got his chin down but looks up at me through his lashes with those beautiful blue eyes and I have to chuckle at the very thought I might turn him down.

"Let you?  You have to stay here.  You have to stay just to make up to me all the torment you've put me through while you've been gone."  I lean in and kiss him softly but keep it short because I know there is a lot more we need to discuss.

"What about your mother?"

"What about her?"

"We have to tell her you're here."

"No!"

"Justin…"

"No Brian.  She sent me off to that war, I know she regrets it now, but I am afraid of what she will do or what she will think once she finds out I've defected.  She'll be ashamed of me.  If she's ashamed of me she'll be too proud to let me take over the farm and she'll lose it."   

I get up from the table and pace around the room.  I can't even look at him at the moment.  I'm not sure what I'm feeling; it's a mix of anger, disappointment, and apprehension.

**Justin's POV**

I'm confused watching Brian pace around the room; he looks a bit like a mountain lion ready to pounce.  I'm not sure exactly why he is so upset.  I know that he and my mother have grown a little closer while I've been gone, but surely he must understand why she cannot know I am here; why no one can know.

"Brian please you have to understand the situation.  Tell me you understand!"

"I don't Justin, I can't tell you that.  What I do know, what I do understand is the torture of not knowing.  Trying to go on day after day afraid you are dead, but even more afraid that I'd never know either way.  Missing in action!  You were labeled missing in action, did you know that?!?  Do you have any idea what it is like not to know if the person you love is safe?!?  No you don't.  I know that you were the one in danger, but at least you knew we were relatively safe.  It was bad enough before Gettysburg when there was a chance that you could be injured again or killed, but then to have you simply missing like you disappeared?  You can't ask me to understand how it would be better for Jennifer or for you to keep her in the dark; to keep her thinking you might be dead.  I won't do it.  If you don't find a way to tell her, I will have to.  I'm sorry."

And with that he left the room and I could only stare after his retreating form.  I noticed as he walked away that he finally started to wipe away the tears I don't think he knew were streaking down his face while he was talking.  

I give him a few minutes to calm down and myself a few minutes to think.  I guess he's right.  I never really put myself in his shoes or my mothers; I was too focused on my own plight.  The entire time I've been away I was always relieved to know that Brian was here and he was safe, I just never gave the opposite side much thought.

Walking down the hall I prepare myself for the possibility that Brian is still upset with me, I'm hoping he got it all out in that one outburst.

"You're right Brian."  He just looks up at me as if waiting for me to promise not to hurt him again.  "You are.  We can't tell my mother that I'm here, or that I've defected, but I was thinking of something else that might work.  I'd need your help, but maybe we can fabricate some letters, the first telling a story that she would believe."

"What story is anyone going to believe?"

"I don't know Brian.  How about in the confusion of our unit's retreat I got separated from them, had to lay low until I could find and join up with another unit.  That should work."

"Yeah that just might work."

He looks at me and smiles slightly and I know that I am forgiven for making him worry.  Since we seem to have found our way back to the bedroom we might as well take advantage of it.


	17. The End Is Just The Beginning

  
Author's notes: I would like to thank you all again for taking this journey with me and putting up with the sometimes long delays between chapters. An extra special thanks to my beta KJ for being so fantabulous. If anyone is interested keep your eyes out for my next fic already brewing in my brain – Moments.  


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**Justin's POV**

  
I make my way up his beautiful body, trailing hot, wet kisses along his torso. I stop to suckle, nip, and lick his nipples before eventually continuing to kiss my way to his adam's apple and finally his luscious lips.  

Tenderly I kiss those lush lips, seeking entrance with my tongue, and his tongue comes out to meet mine in a familiar dance.  After several minutes of kissing I pull away from him and begin to make my way back down his body.  Trailing my tongue down the center of his torso I take time nibble along the edges of his navel.

Continuing the journey down his body I lick and suck at the tender flesh where thigh meets groin and he groans. I glance up at him and he looks at me and for a moment I get lost in those hazel eyes that I love so much.

I can tell by the look in his eyes that he is ready to take this to the next level, so I spit in my hand and begin to work my moistened fingers into the opening of his anus.  Before long he is moaning and writhing beneath me, just begging for me to give him more.  I take another minute to scissor my fingers widening him up to make sure he is ready for me.  I slip just the head of my penis into his opening, and then pull back out.  I repeat this motion several times until he screams out in frustration.  Finally not able to keep up the delicious torment any long with one push I bury myself inside him.  His warmth envelopes me and I almost lose control.  

Thrusting in and out of the man I love is all I've dreamed about for weeks, and I'm finally here in this moment.  I wish it would last longer but after only a few minutes the sweat is dripping off my body and landing on Brian's chest and stomach.  I cry out as my body empties into Brian's and I feel his juices spurt in between us.

After collapsing on top of him I drift off to sleep.

When I wake up a short time later Brian and I formulate a more definite plan.  His life won't change.  He will still go to work everyday, he has just said he would start trying to come home a bit earlier so I'm not alone all day.  I prepare myself for being alone and cut off from the world for quite some time.  Who knows how much longer this war will last?  If I am to hide out here then no one can know I am here.  I can't leave for fear of being seen.  If someone comes to visit, as Brian has assured me my mother will do, I must hide in our room and remain completely quiet until they are gone.    
I will spend my days reading and sketching, and dreaming of the moment when Brian will come home from work.  That moment will probably be my most favorite everyday.  I guess each day for a few hours I will get a small idea of what it was like for him to wait for me to come home the two years I was away.  
And so we will go to bed tonight, and tomorrow we will start a new chapter in our lives.

  
**Almost Two Years Later – April 15th, 1865** **  
**Brian's POV****

I make my way home tonight in shock.  Lincoln is dead.  Lee surrendered six days ago.  It's just a matter of time before the rest of the confederate troops surrender.  It was starting to feel like this war would never end, but in the little world Justin and I have created for ourselves that was almost preferable.  I did always feel for the families of those who were still fighting and dying, but having Justin home and all to myself for the last two years was my idea of heaven.  
Standing on the porch I hesitate to open the door, these events mean the end of this war, and I don't know what that means for me; for us.  We've ignored the inevitable for the last two years.  Time has run out though, we can't go on pretending.  Reality has found us.

"Justin, I'm home."

I love coming home to Justin and getting a kiss when I walk through the door every night.  Tonight though I can't help but realize that it might be the last time I am able to feel this way.  Our lips part and I look into his eyes and I know that he knows.

"Lincoln's dead," I tell him since I know he is cut off from the world while hiding out here.  

"Then I guess its time we face reality, and our future.  What are we going to do Brian?"

"You have to return home.  You have to return to the farm.  No one would ever understand if you 'returned' from war and came to live with me.  Your mother understood you living with me while you were injured because you were still upset with her, but that just isn't the case anymore.  Besides you and I both know she needs you there to help run things."

"What about us?  I don't want to live without you." 

"You won't ever really be without me.  We'll just have to go back to the way things were before the war started."

"No.  I can't go back to being just your friend.  No Brian you can't mean that."  He starts to cry a little and I realize how what I've said was taken the wrong way so I wrap him up in my arms and shush him a bit to calm him back down.

"Justin I didn't mean it.  At least not the way it sounded.  I just meant that you would live at your farm, and I would live here.  You'll still come to visit me almost everyday like you used to, no one would question that, and what we have between us will just have to be our lifelong secret."

"A secret?  I wish we could just be together!  To hell with what people think, or what may be best for us or for my family."

"Please Justin don't make this any harder than it has to be, please.  This doesn't mean I don't love you.  I do, you know I do.  We don't need to declare it to the world to know that.  This time, these last two years, they are more than we should have ever had the right to have.  And as long as we have each other it doesn't matter where we live, we'll be fine."

"I know.  You're right Brian.  But I'll keep up hope that maybe someday we can live together like this again.  I'm going to go now before it gets too dark, if I stay here another night I'll never be able to leave."

He leans up to kiss me and I have to restrain myself from dragging him back into the bedroom, back into the life we've been living, so I let him go.

He opens the door, crosses the threshold, turns around and says a simple "I love you Brian" before shutting the door and leaving.

"I love you too, Justin.  I'll see you tomorrow," I say to the devastating emptiness of my house.

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Final Author's Note:  I do apologize if you were hoping for or expecting a happily ever after type of ending – I just didn't feel that would be historically accurate.  I gave you the best ending I felt I could.  If you have complaints I would be happy to hear them too!  I promise the next fic I write won't have a similar ending.


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